Let Me In
by Cease-Firee
Summary: She sat so close next to me, but oddly, I didn't feel the need to move away from her. This was comfortable, not intimidating. I took a deep breathe, unsure. "I'm not going to bite, Miranda. You can trust me" - Broken, tired and misused. Miranda lets Andrea turn everything inside her into something young, warm and passionate. Rated M chapters have begun.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer (for entire story)- I do not own anything other than story line.**

**I would like to note this is movie-verse and will include some of the events in the movie but mixed around. Don't worry. It will make sense. **

**This may be triggering or offending to some readers, but until a couple of chapters. I will post a warning on the chapter I am thinking of when I post it so it's not too much of a plot-fucker-up-er. **

Let Me In

**11:30pm**

"_Miranda, are you alright?" She sounded so close, yet I couldn't even fathom how distance I had given myself. I pursed my lips, trying with every fibre in my being to look like I hadn't been affected by what she had just witnessed. "Miranda?" She stepped further up the stairs and I instinctively stepped backwards. "I won't hurt you." Her eyebrows were raised, her eyes shiny, her lips parted. She didn't look tense. Could I believe her? Everybody I'd believed so far had thrown the 'truth' back to me where I'd obviously missed and let it break. _

"_Do you know what time it is, Andrea?" I turned my head away from her, not being able to look her in the eye. When she stopped dead in her tracks and rested her hand on the banister for support, I continued. "It's time that you got home to your lover." I coughed, clearing my throat from anything that may show the fact I was almost reaching breaking point. I went to leave, lifting my body from the arm of the loveseat I had propped myself on moments before Andrea has arrived but her hand was circling my wrist before I could escape._

"_Miranda, I am not leaving until I know you are okay." I blinked at her. Why was she still here? I understand, asking that question gives the impression that I wished for her to leave, for her to flea and pretend that she hadn't seen a thing. If you thought that on first impression, you are wrong. I simply ask myself why she was still here because if I were her, I would have left the foolish old woman standing in front of me to be by herself. I wouldn't have stayed. I wouldn't have cared to stay, but Andrea, she cared. "Sit down, we can talk about this." I could feel myself being pulled to the love seat. "I'll get you something to drink, to take your mind off of things." _

_I watched as she walked around the room effortlessly. She knew where everything was, not once did she stop in her tracks and wonder if something was kept in the right draw or the left. She returned with two large glasses of whiskey in hand. I took one, thanking her internally. Her smile, fresh, bright, everything I wasn't._

"_So," she sipped at her whiskey, "tell me how all of this started." She sat so close next to me, but oddly, I didn't feel the need to move away from her. This was comfortable, not intimidating. I took a deep breathe, unsure. "I'm not going to bite, Miranda. You can trust me" _

_And with that, I handed her my soul._

**Yesterday Morning – 5a.m**

My eyes opened as I made some inaudible noise to announce I was awake before scrunching up my eyes and pushing my face down into the pillow. Obviously, no hand slid over my hip to welcome me to the day. That had stopped a while ago. Instead, I just felt his weight shift and then vanish as he got out of bed to get ready. I turned over to face him, only catching the back of the bathroom door as it closed. Sighing, I let my head hit the pillow as I slouched back to my previous position.

I noticed the small red light on my cell phone flashing. I managed to pull some motivation from somewhere unknown and grab the cell phone from the bed side table. I had a message from Emily, simply saying she was already at work. She was always so keen to please. I threw the phone, care abandoned, down the bed and rolled my eyes and it slipped off of the silk sheets and thudded as it hit the floor.

Stephen entered the room. He wore a black suit, red tie with a spotless white handkerchief sticking out of his top pocket. He wanted to impress somebody and by the grunt he gave as he saw my eyes were open and that I was indeed awake, it obviously wasn't me.

"How long have you been awake?" No good morning. He just got straight to the point.

"10 minutes." I threw the bed covers away from my body, shifted my legs so they were dangling over the side of the bed and grabbed my robe from the chair next to the bed. I wrapped the black material around my body, tying a knot on my hip before crossing my arms and turning to look at him. "And yourself?" I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling how it flicked in the wrong direction in several places.

"About half an hour." He sat on the end of the bed, pulling on some socks. Of course, he'd been awake for longer than I had and didn't wake me. I understand, we didn't love each other like we once did and that the morning romances were long gone but every morning when he didn't touch me left a mark. "You didn't get back until late last night, where were you?"

I rolled my eyes. He had the nerve to ask me where I was when it is obvious that he is seeing some other girl, bound to be younger and firmer. "I was working, Stephen. I notice you haven't wrapped your mind around the fact I take my job seriously."

"The girls were already sleeping, you promised them…"

"Stephen, it is 6a.m. I am not in the mood to start the day with yet another argument about the things I promise to my children." I snorted. "If it was any of your business, I would happily participate." I hadn't pushed the line. I felt that if I continued in this conversation, I would. So, I made my way to the bathroom that he had just left, likely untidy, for me to use.

"My business? You used to call them _our _children." I quickened my pace around the bed, knowing that if I didn't lock the bathroom door he would just follow me. "Why are you locking me out of this family, Miranda?" I slammed the door, locking it quickly. It didn't stop him banging on the door. I pressed my back against the hard wood, pulling the black material tightly to my chest.

"Go to work, Stephen." I shouted back to him.

He spoke now, under the impression that I couldn't hear. "That's right. Hide from what could hurt you. It's one of the many things you're good at."

I couldn't move, I physically wasn't able to. Then, I heard him slam the bedroom door. He was leaving. I sighed, feeling some of the built up tension leave my body. I pushed myself away from the door, unwillingly starting the shower up. I didn't want to go to work today; I wanted to crawl back into bed so I could be there for when the girls woke up so I could be a good mother with a good heart.

He was right. I was ruining this family. The girls didn't have a father and they hardly saw their mother. I stepped into the shower, the water burning my skin. Even with this, I felt the need to turn the water heat on full. I don't know why, it just seemed fitting. I hissed at small pins stuck into my chest, stomach and thighs. Instincts made me turn around, covering my back and shoulders in the same un-comfort. When I was used to the scorching heat, I put my head underneath the water. I hissed but welcomed the burn.

Ten minutes later, after washing my body and hair, I stepped out of the shower, feeling droplets of water run down my legs and arms causing me to shiver. The sudden lack of heat was refreshing. I turned the water off, wrapped a towel around myself and stepped into the bedroom. I dressed quickly, after drying my hair, in a black pencil skirt and a white silk blouse. I decided Louboutins were perfect with grey pearls around my neck and dangling from my ears. When I was happy with my appearance, I'd brushed through my hair once more and put some make up on my skin. I found an appropriate black coat, tight around the waist but flattering enough as it did stop at the thighs.

I stepped out of my bedroom, locking the door behind me as it was in fact a rule in this house that personal space was personal space. My heels clicked, even though I was walking on the balls of my feet in order to not wake the girls, as I wandered down the stairs. I picked the book from where I had left it the night before, tucked it under my arm and placed the sun glasses on my face. Roy was indeed waiting for me outside so slipping out quickly and getting into the car was no problem.

Within 15 minutes I was walking into the lobby and having crowds of people jumping out of my way as I strutted through them. I stepped into the elevator, it took several minutes for the elevator doors to actually close and several eye rolls as people went to step inside and saw me, but eventually I was moving.

When I stepped out, Emily practically snatched the book out of my hands and began telling me the plans for today as if I didn't even know.

"You have two meetings today, Miranda, one at twelve and one at three. The art department are in desperate need of your attention, it is shambles down there, seriously." I started clouding her voice out, pursing my lips as I walked so it gave her the impression I was listening.

Interrupting, I said, "Is my breakfast on my desk?" This startled her.

"Why, um, yes, Miranda." I slipped my coat off of my shoulders and forced it into her hands. I quickened my step, playing with my sleeves as I walked. Entering my office, Andrea stood up from her desk, smiling and welcoming me. I gave no reply. Was one necessary? After a couple of minutes, my French toast and bacon devoured, Andrea stepped into my office to retrieve the leftovers.

"How was your morning, Miranda?" I slipped a look at the clock. It was only 9:34a.m.

"Fine." I glanced at what she was wearing, a daily routine since she had become eye catching. She wore a simple red, slim fitting dress with a black slash hanging loosely around her hips, a small black cardigan and ankle high boots. I approved, but I wouldn't let her know that.

"You sure?" I placed the glass I had lifted up to take a sip from back on to the table. What did she mean by that? Before I could confront her, she had left the office closing the door behind her. Well, that had left me speechless.

**So, yup. Crappy ending but I did write it around 4 times and this was the best of the bunch so it's what you got. (: I'm chuffed with the story line I've created in my head so even if nobody likes this I shall be updating every now and then. But I do still hope you enjoy. **


	2. Chapter 2

Let Me In

**Yesterday Morning – 11am**

I had several photographs tucked under my arm, my glasses swaying in my fingers and a cold expression on my face as I returned from the art department. Emily hadn't been lying. It was an utter mess down there. The silence that overcame the room when I walked in, Andrea at my heels, was astonishing. I was on the verge of being impressed at my staffs' manners but when I noticed the layout of one of the make-up pages those few seconds of amazement vanished.

I had spent the next hour or so standing over some fool's shoulder on the computer. I felt like a teacher at middle school, guiding my student every time she did something I was not impressed with, which was often. At one occasion, she expected me to accept that she had changed the text above the black lipsticks to a vile green. When I pointed the clash she just sat gaping at the screen. I had lost count of how many times I had rolled my eyes at her petty incompetence.

I had noticed how Andrea was sitting at a table the opposite side of the room hunched over a note book while sat next to some of the staff. I didn't smile but it made me buzz that I could rely on my second assistant to do even the art departments' job correctly. We'd managed to sort out several things but left the rest to the people I had hired for this job in the first place.

As both Andrea and I re-entered my office I passed the photographs back to her to photocopy so I could edit the originals. I got Emily on the case of getting me a coffee as I waited. When I had them both in my hand I vanished back into my sanctuary. Both assistants knew that as the door was closed I was to only be disturbed if a death occurs. This was a compulsory rule. Half way through my coffee I just didn't feel like doing the task in front of me anymore. I just simply didn't feel like I wanted to do it. I leant back in my chair and ran my tongue over my teeth. Dropping the pen, I sighed. This wasn't like me. I usually wished to finish every task as soon as I could so I could move onto the next. I leant my whole body forward and held my face in my hands. I started thinking.

Images of this morning swept through my mind. Stephen had looked at me in such disgust. Was I really that repulsive? I knew I was adored, a fashion icon, but they all loved me for my power and not for the love I showed my family on a daily basis. Until this point I had never realised how insufferable I must be to the people around me. I expected perfection but gave nothing in return. I remembered how he slammed the door. We hadn't even had an argument, it was very toned down for an argument between Stephen and myself, and it had resulted in him slamming the door as he got away from the pain I had become.

I sighed and allowed myself some vulnerability. I pressed my forehead against the table, closing my eyes and mouth and just saw darkness. I do not know how long I stayed like this but after a while I heard a knock at the door.

"I'm sorry Miranda," I pulled myself off the table quickly, my neck tensing. "You've got a lunch. Remember?"

"Thank you, Andrea." I spewed the words with the most sarcasm I could muster. I was so stressed. I rubbed my temple with my thumb as I got up from my desk. The last thing I needed right now was a meal with Irv with his fake concern for the magazines welfare and my girls. I inhaled sharply and made my way to the door. Andrea already had my coat hugging my shoulders before I could even ask for it. She slipped my purse into my hand and scurried back around her desk to do her job.

**Yesterday Afternoon – 12:15pm**

I saw him stand up from the opposite side of the room. He'd seen me; I smiled and nodded my head, the only acknowledgement he would receive. The young waiter guided me to the table, took my coat and hurried off to get drinks.

"Miranda," He extended his hand but I did not take it, "how have you been?"

"Fine, Irv. And yourself?" I slipped my purse under the table, hiding the first thing I would use to beat him. Pursing my lips, I lifted my finger for the young waiter to stop pouring the fine wine he had received into my glass.

"Fine, yes, all is good." I took a generous sip from my glass, placing it back onto the table and already feeling some of the stress from the day seep away.

We discussed the magazine for several moments, the horrendous art department playing a huge part, before conversation became dull and both sides gave up. Our food eventually arrived.

"How is everything at home?" I rolled my eyes. Here we go. I rolled my eyes, refusing to answer. He knew I didn't like discussing personal things at work. I also refused to ask him how his life at home was. Quite frankly, I didn't care. He didn't care about mine so why should I care about his? "How are the girls? Doing well at school still?" I smiled; The fact I didn't care was gone. I would take the opportunity to talk about one of the things that made me smile.

"Yes, they're still doing astonishing at school." This was one thing I would not refuse to answer. I adored bragging about my wonderful children. "Not like their mother, she always had her head buried in a sketch book. They study and care about their school life which I find quite inspiring especially for children in this day and age." The menus were placed, standing up, in front of both Irv and myself. My neck tensed as the waiter looked me over, probably deciding if I was in a relationship with the vile man in front of me. He took his time and only when he'd hurried off to assist another diner did I pick up the menu and skim down my options. Nothing popped out at me so I just went with a simple salad with bacon on the side. Irv, on the other hand, decided on fresh salmon which wouldn't be on the table for a while.

The idle talk between us was less than inspiring. It wandered from the weather to how close Christmas was to the magazine. Of course, I didn't really participate. He only received the every now and then nod and a few grunts. I, Miranda Priestly, was not one for idle conversation and Irv of all people should know that.

When our food finally arrived, it didn't take me long to finish my plate of lettuce and bacon, which was less than satisfactory. I didn't want to wait for Irv. I snapped my cell phone open.

"Meet me outside, Roy." He agreed, of course. Irv looked bewildered. I confess that I had never left this suddenly. I normally gave him a five minute warning that I no longer wanted to be in his company. I rose from my chair and retrieved my coat, leaving Irv to pay. I smiled to the young water, ignoring his extended hand asking for a tip. I would not pay a young boy who thought through his trousers and not his head.

Stepping into the back of the car was a blessing. I was stressed, more than usual, and paparazzi at this time of day were never welcome. Ever. I flipped my phone open, once again, and sent Andrea a text demanding hot coffee and a biscuit. It had been a tough day. I wanted to indulge. I welcomed the soft creak as I leant back into the leather, pulling my shoulder blades in all the right places. How much I wanted somebody to be rubbing at my shoulders and neck to relieve some of the tension was unbelievable. I felt like sending Andrea another fiery message about a massage in the near future but decided against it as she replied with "coffee's on the way, A." I pursed my lips. She'd never replied to a message demanding coffee. She'd always just get on with it. It's not something somebody would notice, but I was Miranda Priestly. My job was to notice and it wasn't a secret that I was good at my job.

I shrugged, flipping the phone shut. I would work it out later. Right now I just needed to enjoy not having to work.

It didn't last long. Roy had opened the door for me to enter Runway around 10 minutes later. I reached my office and smiled when there were in fact two chocolate biscuits on my desk along with a Starbucks coffee with its lid still in place to keep the heat in. If I could trust anybody with my coffee order it was definitely Andrea. I turned, she was still in the door.

"Anything else I can do for you, Miranda?" She smiled, something gleamed in her eye. I couldn't put my finger on what.

"No," I tried to hide my smile by pushing my tongue over my teeth, "That's all." She nodded. There was something half teasing on her lips as she smirked. I scolded myself for letting myself notice as I got back to work.

**Yesterday Evening – 11:02pm**

I collected the book from the table where Andrea had left it and continued into the kitchen. Stephen was upstairs in the shower and the girls were already fast asleep. This was the only time that I could sit comfortably in my own home and look over something and turn it into something beautiful. This, other than the few moments with my children, was my favourite part of the day.

I poured myself a generous glass of Stephens' alcohol, he had enough bottles and one glass wasn't going to be missed. A smiled crept onto my face as my feet padded silently towards the lounge and as the cool tiles became warm carpet. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, I pulled my robe around me before sprawling my body over the chair. I opened the book in my lap and an hour somehow vanished as I skimmed through pages, adding notes and moving around pictures that weren't already stuck in.

I heard a grumble from the kitchen. It must be Stephen.

"Miranda," I rolled my eyes, "why is this not in the cupboard?" I slouched back into the chair, remembering I'd left the bottle on the kitchen top. I shook my head, ignoring him. It didn't last long. He wandered into the room, more than likely looking for me as he actually hadn't welcomed be home from work. He held the bottle in his hand, proof that he wasn't lying. "Did you leave it out?"

"Yes." I didn't look up from what I was writing.

"It's fine. Just steal what I paid for." He muttered. I was disgusted.

"Excuse me?" I raised my eyes but didn't give him the satisfaction of stopping writing, so averted my eyes back down to the paper when he'd realised that I had in fact heard him.

"Nothing." He grunted.

"I don't recall your speech at the wedding being 'Everything I own, you own other than what I pay for which is strictly mine,' do you?" I turned a page, now pursing my lips and removing my glasses from my face to rest on my knee.

"I also don't ever recall you calling the wedding 'our' wedding." He spoke up. He must have been proud of what he said. I have to admit, I did notice I didn't call it ours because it hadn't been. I didn't mind that the girls helped with a lot of things but when Stephen's sister decided she would come to all of my dress fittings it didn't feel like mine anymore. I'd told Stephen about this but of course, I was in love, so a small "it's making my sister happy. Can you just cope? I promise I'll make it up to you" was enough for me. He never made it up to me. "I thought it meant more to you than that. You were the one, after all, who wanted to get married in the first place. Was that just to make me yours officially? My God, over the past year I have discovered that when they said you were possessive they weren't joking."

I'd stiffened. I couldn't look at him. I was so ashamed. Anger suddenly replaced how I felt and I looked him dead in the eye before placing my glasses back onto my face and carrying on with my work. The pen in my hand suddenly started making horrible scratching noises as my hand forced it slightly too hard onto the paper when I was writing. A couple of moments later he hadn't moved. Why was he not backing away?

"Are you still here?" I spat, disgusted in his behaviour.

"No. I'm just leaving." I didn't look up as he went back into the kitchen, set the bottle on the kitchen top and went upstairs, muttering to himself. Probably about how much of a bitch I was. I felt so angry. I felt as if heat could take over me any moment and I more than likely wouldn't notice.

I grabbed the glass on the coffee table. If I hadn't of got something to drink this wouldn't have happened. I stood up, the book falling to the floor. Don't ask me why I did it, but I threw the glass at the wall, making a satisfying shattering sound before the pieces fell onto the carpet. I breathed in through my nose and held it inside. I felt my bottom lip starting to tremble softly. I averted my eyes towards to ceiling but it was too late. A single tear ran along my water line before escaping at the outside corner. When one had escaped, a flood of other tears felt the need to join. I broke, bending at the waist and holding onto my stomach, my face was contorted in pain. I breathed in shakily and the feeling that came when I just openly began crying was like my throat was being torn out. I sat calmly back onto the chair and sat back, wanting to sink into the chair and not have to come out.

I tugged my legs up, my fingers playing with my robe. I felt stupid, repulsive, vulnerable and I didn't like it.

I had completely forgotten about the book lying crumpled in front of me and the broken glass on the carpet at the opposite side of the room as I fell silently into a painless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**That Morning – 4:03am**

I felt hands, dainty, on my shoulders gently forcing me awake. I groaned and wrinkled my nose, not yet ready to face anything. Opening my eyes, I saw Cara was leaning over me, no smile on her face. I hadn't been awake long enough to figure out why. Of course, when I saw the book still on the floor I remembered. I gulped, rested my hand on the woman's arm before pushing myself higher on the chair. I didn't like to slouch.

"Miranda, is everything alright?" She sounded concerned. "Why aren't you in bed? There's glass on the floor." She turned her head to the direction of the glass. My face felt firm from the tears drying on my face the night before. I went to stand, but Cara pushed me back into the chair. "Don't be silly Miranda. No matter what happened, I'll deal with the mess. You just sit there and I'll sort things out." I felt the corner of my mouth curve up for a second, but when she pulled away and rushed to the kitchen I suddenly felt overcome by chills and loneliness. I bent to get the book. It was a mess. So many of the pages were bent and even bending them back to their original shape left a vile and harsh line down the centre of the pages.

Sighing, I shrugged back into the chair. Cara came in moments later, a plastic bucket in her hand to pick up the glass. The dull sound of the fragments hiding the bottom of the bucket lulled me into a day dream, staring at the carpet for moments on end. Cara coughed. It brought me out of my state and reminded me that Stephen was upstairs in our bedroom alone. I persuaded myself to get out of the chair and reluctantly headed towards the door, running my hand along the back of the chair as I left. "Thank you" I whispered to Cara, not sure if she'd heard me.

Pushing the door slightly open to our bedroom, I could see that Stephen was still in bed, snoring lightly, evidently still asleep. I stepped through the small crack in the door, trying not to make a sound or draw attention to myself. I slipped my robe off of my shoulders and let it rest on the chair next to the bed. I hesitated as I sat delicately on the edge of the bed before forcing myself to lie down, not risking going under the sheets. I didn't want him waking up and having to have the "where have you been?" conversation, even if I was only downstairs for the evening.

He grumbled slightly, but not waking up. I then felt safe to relax, comfortable and in my own environment.

I must have fallen asleep as I ended up being woken by Stephen getting up for work. I rubbed my eyes, a small amount of tension leaving with the contact, and sat up. I'd forgotten, once again, that I hadn't spent the night in my bed and was now on top of the duvet. When I felt chills due to the lack of cloth draped over my legs I tensed. I averted my eyes from my legs, internally hoping that if I was ignorant to the fact I wasn't in bed then Stephen would be too.

Without saying a word, he'd disappeared into the bathroom. I relaxed, letting go of the breath I had been holding. I pounced, moving quicker than I had in a while, to get my whole body in bed and hidden. I tugged the blanket up around my ears and lay on my side. Even surrounded by the sheets that he had just been lying in, I felt nothing but cold. I wasn't tired, even with the night full of discomfort on the sofa, but I felt myself drifting in and out of consciousness. A sneeze coming from the bathroom sent me jolting back to being brutally awake. Sniffing, I pushed the blankets down from my face and brought my arm up so that I was massaging the back of my neck. I stayed in the position until Stephen came out of the bathroom. I had thought that I'd got away with it, sneaking into the room, but obviously, I hadn't.

"Where were you last night? You didn't come to bed." I flinched at how loud his words. He wasn't shouting but it looked like speaking the conversation was out of his equation.

"I slept downstairs." I threw the duvet away from me, knowing fully well that I couldn't go back to sleep. I hunched over the side of the bed, fiddling with my robe, running the belt through my fingers. "I didn't mean to. I just fell asleep on the sofa." Pulling myself to my feet, I gracefully twirled my robe around my shoulders and tied the belt loosely around my waist.

"Oh, so you didn't purposely avoid me this time?" Rolling my eyes, I began walking around the bed to get into the shower. "You're so good at not talking when it suits you, Miranda. It's actually sort of impressive." I snorted, rather unsophisticated of me, but it was my initial reaction.

"Oh please. If you're going to use this to start another argument between us I can see where your priorities lie." He pulled his purple shirt out of the closet. I swallowed. I suddenly felt washed over by sadness. That purple shirt was his favourite. He wore it on the last 'date' before our wedding. We were "at it" like animals that night and that shirt had been a large part of how attracted I was to him. Him wearing it to go to work felt like both buckets of ice cold water were being thrown at me from all directions because something so special was now quite casual and that I wasn't the one he wanted to impress anymore. I got that all from a shirt. Moments like this made me wish that clothes didn't mean so much to me.

"Are you saying my priorities are the problem?" He chuckled. I lifted my eyes, not my face, to look at him through my eye lashes. "Of course they are. It's obvious. It's never you, Miranda. You're never the problem." Rolling my eyes, I turned to continue my journey to the bathroom. "I think you need anger management." I stopped in my tracks and once again, turned slowly to glare at him.

"Excuse me?" I spat, making him chuckle. Bastard.

"I heard you smash the glass last night. Don't think I didn't realise what it was. The whole house heard it. If I make you that angry every time I speak a hint of honesty to you we'll end up having to get rid of everything glass in the house." I inhaled sharply, un-amused by his joke. He smiled at my reaction. What had I married into?

"You said nothing 'honest' last night. You just threw false accusations at me, made me look like I don't care—"

He interrupted, shouting: "It's because you don't care! You don't need me to make you look that way, Miranda! You do it on your own! You look like you don't care when really it is so much more than that! If I don't have a nice jumper or shoes on you act like I'm not even there, and when I do the only acknowledgment I get is a fucking nod! You don't care, Miranda! You never have!" He'd moved towards me.

"You think I don't care? You think I never have? I'm sorry that I brought you here, Stephen." I spoke, I didn't shout. I refused to rise to his level. "I'm sorry I felt sorry for you when you arrived at my office drunk out of your skull and I thought that a night cap would be the right idea to bring you back to earth. I'm sorry that I never cared when I paid for the whole alcohol sham to be kept private and out of the papers. I'm sorry I didn't care Stephen, because my God, I wasted a lot of time and money not caring, didn't I?" Looking at my nails was the only thing stopping me from cracking. I pulled at a cuticle, and mentally booked a manicure.

"You think money and time is what shows that you care?" He laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh. It was a disapproving laugh. He strolled up to me, close to me. I felt on edge, almost nervous, intimidated and I didn't like it. "Fuck you, Miranda." He gracefully swiped a jacket, a black leather jacket I bought for his last birthday, before heading for the door and slamming it behind him.

Self-hatred began to pump through my veins. It wasn't a graceful realisation of how much I despised myself. It was sudden and tragic. It was like somebody had just thrown something at me and it had consumed me within seconds. I knew before that I wasn't an amazing person but this was utter torture. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to push the torture out of my system. It didn't work. It just brought vulnerability with it. That was when I cracked. The tears silently rolled down my cheeks. I didn't sob. I was too broken for that right now.

I sat quietly on the bed, seeing myself in the mirror. I looked small, unimportant, pathetic. I pushed the balls of my hand into my eye sockets, welcoming the colourful patterns that flew behind my eyes. I felt numb. I didn't like it but it was comforting.

**8:24am**

I was late. People would notice I was late. They wouldn't say anything to me but I knew better than anyone that they would all be discussing why I was late between themselves, producing stupid and childish reasons like _she must have left her pitchfork at home and had to go back and get it _or, one I've heard before, _she was busy butchering puppies. _I strutted through the lobby. People still managed to jump out from beneath my feet, probably noting the worse than usual expression on my face.

I exited the elevator, the door not even fully open yet. I was passed caring. I needed to start working before I did something stupid. I felt terrible and was in the mood to sit in my office and release the anger for the awful state the book was in, before I ruined it even more.

I threw my coat and bag at Andrea. "Get Nigel. Now" was all I said before vanishing into my office. Moments later, he stepped confidently into my office. I threw the book at the table, giving a loud thud. "Explain yourself."

He looked at me, clueless.

I rolled my eyes. "You thought this was acceptable? This was the most low-life attempt at perfection I have ever seen. It is passed by you before it is passed by me. I want to know why you thought it was presentable." I rested a hand on my hip, passing my whole weight over to one leg and smiled at Nigel. I was not in the mood.

"I passed it onto you because you're the queen." He smiled, proud of his sarcastic answer. I should have known questioning him would just result in sarcasm. "You're the boss. You fix everything. This was a challenge." He'd stepped forward, looking through the jar of pencils on my desk and then saw my facial expression. "But seriously, Miranda, I thought it was so bad that you should see it first-hand."

"Oh, God." I whispered, looking away from him. "I'm so pleased you felt that was necessary. As you can see," I picked the book up, preparing to make an excuse for the state I had brought the book back in, "I lost patience and threw it across the room. I'm so thrilled that you didn't even bother to look at it. Seriously. You made my job so much easier." Then, I glared at him. He looked speechless, his mouth opening and closing. I admired Nigel but at times like this I really wanted to watch somebody else break so that I didn't feel alone.

"I'm sorry, Miranda." He finally spoke. "I'll get it fixed. We'll take your notes into consideration." He picked up the book and left quickly. So much for watching someone break. I turned on my heels, crossing my arms, and peered out the window.

I closed my eyes. I couldn't deal with the day ahead. I knew, even from the short morning, that the rest of the day wouldn't be much better.

Somebody knocked at the door. I breathed out through my nose, before opening my eyes. "Yes?"

"Miranda," Andrea chirped, "are you alright?" I coughed.

"Fine." Why was she asking? Didn't she have some errand to tend to or pointless e-mail to read?

"I don't believe you."

Rolling my eyes. "Oh please, Andrea." I smirked.

"I'm outside if you need to talk." I'd lost my patience. I turned to spit something at her, but she was already gone. I ever so desperately wanted to throw something.

Then the earlier conversation I had sprung into mind. Anger management. Surely I wasn't that bad. I sunk down into my chair, breathing out. Everything I saw was clear, but I felt as if I couldn't see it. And there I sat; everybody too on edge to come and talk to me, for my bad attitude was once again pushing people away. Andrea wandered in and out every now and then, dropping off a cool glass of every time I finished it.

After an hour of feeling sorry for myself, I stood up. As I walked through the office to go down and scold the art department, once again, I didn't fail at noticing Andrea's smile when she saw me walking through. It beamed pride. I averted my eyes towards her, knowing fully well the smile would not vanish.

"Welcome back, Miranda." She whispered. For the first time that day, I smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**That Afternoon, 1:23pm**

I had forgotten about the mornings events and had buried myself in work. It was the only thing that made me content, other than the girls, of course but obviously I couldn't pull them out of school just to make me feel better. Sniffing, I continued flicking through Emma Stones' photo shoot for the middle page spread we were doing on her current movie, her playing the leading role. I also planned to announce later to the art department that she would also star on the cover instead of the less than stunning brunette I had been presented with. I'd picked out the suitable photo, her wearing a navy leotard with luscious curls cascading over her shoulder. Her body arched at an attractive yet less than suggestive angle. It was a beautiful photo.

I'd folded two of the photos, not wanting them to have anything to do with my magazine, but the others were all satisfactory. This left me with the task of asking a change of cover of the art department and calling Carl to schedule another run through with more adequate choices for the winter issue and setting a date and time for a meeting with Justine and her crew. I also wanted a larger section for make-up but that could wait until after this issue. For the time being, the clothes and designer pages were the problem.

Sighing, I straightened in my chair and called out "Andrea." Within seconds she was in my office, smile in place along with her note book and pen. "Call Carl and ask when he is next free to have another run through."

"Yes Miranda." She nodded, not even writing it down in her little book. It made my mouth purse but I knew she'd come back having done the right thing. I continued to work, several articles fanning out around me and photos of different models with different colour schemes began to pile on top of one another. I had written several sets of different notes by the time Andrea came back, placing something in front of where I was working. I didn't look up, instead planning to finish what I was writing. Andrea being Andrea waited until I had finished. I placed my glassed on the stack of paper and looked at her. I had now noticed that she had in fact put a chicken breast with a small salad bowl with bacon strips on my desk in front of me. I chose to look at her and not the food.

"They're expecting you twelve o'clock tomorrow afternoon." I nodded, going to put my head back down and continue writing. "Miranda, you need to eat. I got you this."

"I can see, Andrea." I held the pen in my hand, just holding it. She didn't accept this, instead she stood and waited for me to say something. "I'm not hungry." I began scratching words into the paper. It wasn't enough to push her away.

"Miranda, have you had breakfast?" My hand froze. I could just hear Emily. _You may never ask Miranda anything._ Dropping the pen, I averted my gaze to her eyes. She wasn't backing down. I shook my head lightly, she would only see if she was truly paying attention. She noticed, of course. "Then eat this and I will call it quits." I smirked.

"And since when do you have the nerve and right to tell your boss what she has to do?" Eyeing the food that had been placed in front of me, I wrinkled my nose before looking her dead in the eye. This answer better be good.

"Since my boss started coming to work with a more prominent frown on her face that usual but at the same time was losing her bite." She almost glared at me when my smirk didn't vanish. I internally laughed, not at how funny it was but how I hadn't even noticed something so obvious. I licked my top lip and tensed my neck, trying to hide a smile that was playing on my lips. How could she read me so well when I hadn't even noticed? Reaching out for the tray she had brought for me, I lifted it to that it was resting directly in front of me. She didn't leave yet, standing determined and strong. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I twirled the fork between my fingers before pushing it through a slice of bacon and lettuce. Holding it up to her, almost as a toast, she smiled. It was radiant. Oh, I was never that radiant when I was young or even now. That was something I envied in her. I pushed the fork into my mouth, chewing lightly. The food wasn't bad but I had eaten better. I wouldn't tell her that. She was doing this for my own good. When I'd swallowed, I almost childishly opened my mouth showing her that the bacon slice and salad were no more. She nodded, that smile once again on her face. "I'll come and get the plate when you've finished." My smirk vanished. As she turned, I began pushing the chicken breast around the plate. "Eat up, Miranda." I shot knives at her with my gaze.

Reluctantly, knowing that I wouldn't get away with this - no matter how many vile words I shot her way - I began to eat. As a lunch it was fantastic but as the first meal of the day it felt almost wrong. Never the less, when I'd finished I felt happy to once again burry myself in work.

Around half an hour left, Andrea wandered in. She held a bottle of water, placing it on my desk and without a word took the tray from my desk and left the room. I hadn't looked up from what I was writing when she'd come in. Why should I have?

"You owe me lunch." She chirped as she entered the room, a small bucket of ice in her hand for my drink. "Don't worry, I'll keep reminding you until I get it." She placed the small bucket in front of what I was writing. I now felt fit to look up at her. Her eyes were full of pride and her smile was warm yet had a tiny of something that I hadn't seen in her before. Tease? Sarcasm? I couldn't put my finger on it. I was an expert in reading people and their next move. I couldn't see something in her expression and that didn't repel me, it made me want to know more. I leaned closer, holding my tongue on my front teeth before pulling it back and smiling. I put as much challenge as I could into that smile.

"When and where, Andrea?" My voice was low, husky. I hadn't anticipated it, shocking myself. He mouth opened, a wonderful smile shining through and a slight laugh.

"With you?" She narrowed her eyes, but the now obviously teasing smile played on her lips. "Anytime and anywhere." I understood the innuendo. I couldn't help but exhale sharply out of my nose and let the harshness escape my features. This girl did wonders.

"Thank you for lunch, Andrea." I called as she left the room once again. I could sense the young girl grinning to herself at having the satisfaction of my having say thank you and actually mean it.

**That Evening, 7:35pm**

I held a mug of hot cocoa in my hand. It was that time of the day that I knew I had more work to do but just wanted to collapse onto a sofa with a box full of chocolates with my girls and watch a movie, maybe Home Alone or Mamma Mia. It was one of those moods where I wanted to see small smiling faces instead of pale walls and overpriced heels. But instead of the ideal setting, I gave myself a hot cocoa and 5 minutes to yawn in privacy.

The door to my office had been closed for a while. Nobody had disturbed and I was thankful. I pushed the door open, pushing the door stop under it quickly and stepped into the main office. Andrea was the only person present. Emily had gone on the last coffee run of the day and a quick visit to a superstore to stock up the office kitchen. They both altered roles each night. I didn't look forward to the near future when I would have to give up Emily to the promise of "a year as Miranda's assistant and you can get a job practically anywhere." It would take me a while to find an assistant to be worth competing with Emily, so finding one better would take an age. Do not even get me started on replacing Andrea. When the time came to replace her I would not be held responsible for my attitude.

Placing my mug on Andrea's desk, I sniffed and straightened my shirt.

"I heard the art department aren't your biggest fans right now." She was swinging lightly on her chair with her arms draped over the arm rests. Her legs were crossed, leaving an attractive crinkle above her thigh where her skirt curled with her body.

I hummed. "Yes, not impressed with my requests. I can't be blamed. If I'm not impressed with their efforts I'm afraid the requests are just going to get more frequent." My eyes widened. Fatigue was setting in. Somehow, having slept on the sofa the night before hadn't given me the same energy sleeping in bed had. I had to hide a yawn, more than likely forcing my face into some sort of contorted and uncomfortable expression.

"Didn't sleep last night?" I turned my eyes from the glass doors to Andrea's face. She herself looked tired. I nodded. "I'll try to have the book with you as soon as I can so you can have a better night sleep." I sniffed with a slight smile and 'thank you' on my face. She seems to understand, nodding. She picked up my mug and wandered into the kitchen to clean it, no doubt.

I moved all my weight onto one leg, hooking my foot on the other leg around my ankle. My hand rested lightly on my hip and my lips, unintentionally, pursed as my eyes started to glaze over. Everything seemed still for a moment. My breathing started getting quicker. I could feel my chest beginning to pant.

I suddenly had words flying around my mind. I could see those newspapers after the second divorce. _The She Devil, Ice Queen, Dragon Lady, _one tabloid had even gone as far to say _b*tch. _Then I remembered Stephen. He was just the cherry on the cake. I was known for my harsh mouth, that I didn't mind and accepted, but it appeared that people didn't realise that I could read and feel emotion from what was written about me. The first time I read something like it about me was before the twins had been born. I couldn't have cared less. It started to bother me when the twins were born and articles were being written about how the girls would be mistreated or just grow up as miniature-devils. Then, words started to hurt.

I'd been standing, gazing at the wall for a few moments. Emily, practically bursting the door, brought me back from my thoughts. She had 3 coffees in her hand and a brilliant shade of red on her cheeks. I snatched mind from her hands as she wandered into the kitchen. She and Andrea erupted into fits of giggles. I don't know why, but it just added to how alone and unwanted I felt. With my coffee, I went back into my office and stood by the window. I closed my eyes. I would not let tears come after such a productive day.

"Miranda." A whisper came from the door. I turned, my eyes still closed. I only opened them when I had my back pressed against the window. "You should go home." I raised an eyebrow at Andrea. "Miranda, I know you're not okay."

"I'm fine, Andrea." I purred towards the girl.

"I'll believe it when I can see it for myself." The side of the girls' temple was now pressed against the door frame. Her eyes were looking into mine, not at but into. I felt a chill that somehow felt pleasantly warm when I realized her expression on a whole almost stung with concern. I'd never seen that from anybody who didn't have a blood connection to me. "Please, go home Miranda. We can handle everything here."

I pursed my lips, once again and averted my gaze. "Fine. Coat. Bag" She sighed, relief plastered over her face. She rushed off as I began to strut towards the door. Within moments, she was placing my coat on my shoulders and my bag in my hands.

Before I could say a word, she announced "I'll still bring the book to you tonight, don't worry."

For some reason, don't ask why, I dusted the collar of her shirt and straightened it. "Thank you, Andrea." I couldn't make myself look her in the eye. It would make me look vulnerable. Even though she knew I wasn't myself right now, I refused to look vulnerable.

And with that, I pulled myself together and flipped open my cell phone. "Roy. Take me home."


	5. Chapter 5

**Re-uploaded chapter - after i'd uploaded it I decided I wanted to change some things. Don't hate me :3**

**MAY BE TRIGGERING. MAY BE. MAY BE.**

**8:06pm**

I closed the door behind me as I entered the town house. I was expecting a dark surroundings as the girls would be upstairs and Stephen would still be at work. I was badly surprised. The whole of the ground floor was lit up like the fourth of July. Not one light was turned off. I set my keys down on a nearby table and shrugged the coat off of my shoulders before lazily putting it to rest on the banister of the stairs. I heard something in the kitchen but I couldn't put my hand on what it was. My hands clenched around the wood of the banister as I heard a laugh. It was a woman's laugh. There was no mistaking it. My tongue instinctively moved to touch my front teeth. It made me neck tense but I couldn't help it. Too many things were going through my mind when I heard that woman's laugh.

It only made things worse when I heard my girls laughing too. My breathing started to doors to the kitchen were closed. I tilted my head, beginning to step as silently as my Louboutin heels could carry me towards the door. I didn't want to show that I was already home. Soon, I was pressing myself up against the door to hear what was happening behind it.

I heard Stephen, my girls and somebody else - obviously, a woman. I couldn't hear what they were talking about but it was enough talk to be called a conversation and just not small talk. I inhaled sharply, wondering what I was going to do. I refused to stand outside the door listening. This was my home and I didn't plan to hide in it.

Taking a breath, I wrapped my fingers around the door knob and twisted sharply. I strutted into the suddenly silent room with the intention to get a drink.

"Mom," Caroline seemed shocked "you're home so early." I opened a cupboard above my head, reaching for a glass and turned to look at my daughter. She was smiling. It made something warm up inside me. Such a beautiful smile.

"Miranda," Stephen turned so his body was leaning into mine, "what are you doing home so early?" Placing the glass on the table in front of where the woman and my children were sitting, I smiled, before bending to retrieve the bottled water from underneath the sink. I finally turned and began pouring the drink. "Miranda." She sounded almost threatening.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?" I raised an eyebrow at him, but kept the rest of my face deadly serious. "It's obvious I wasn't intended to be invited, after all" Sipping on my drink, I didn't fail at noticing the woman's suddenly awkward expression.

"But I thought..." What did Stephen see in her? It was obvious she hadn't been in a romantic relationship in quite some time and that she, maybe, wished that she might get something out of _this get together._ Her short hair was curled, badly. They were small and thin curls. It was obvious she had done it herself and then hadn't taken the time to brush through them lightly so that they looked natural. Her make up did not go well with her more than likely bottled-blonde highlights. She had a dark smoky green framing her eyes with a thick black, uneven, line winging out at the side of her eyes. Her lips were nude, not even a transparent lip gloss. When my studies reached her clothes I had to physically stop myself from smiling. She looked horrendous, even with the fact what she wore were both designer clothes. She wore a light cream pencil skirt, Prada, and a deep purple, silk, shirt. It looked like Gucci. I adored them both separately but put together, it just made me cringe. I couldn't see her shoes, thank heavens. "I, um, didn't mean to impose."

"Oh, you're not imposing. I would just like to know who you are and what you're doing in my home and why I wasn't told of this arrangement." I didn't take my eyes away from her and lifted a finger when Stephen went to answer my question that was obviously aimed towards the sad excuse for a working woman.

"My name's Beth Carlson." She stretched her hand over the table for a hand shake, but only received a disapproving glance as I picked up my glass to take a sip. She coughed awkwardly before continuing, "Stephen and I are under some stress at work and decided it was worth discussing over a meal. I was under the impression that you were the one suggesting that this evening happened here." I smiled. It wasn't a kind smile. It was a harsh and intimidating smile, almost predatory.

"Oh snap." Cassidy added as she realized the emotion that must have been behind my 'smile.'

"Girls, I think it's best you go upstairs." Stephen whispered over the horrendous silence that know invaded the kitchen area. They nodded, understanding that it was best to not hear what could be said but as their mother I knew that they would sit half way up the stairs straining to hear the conversation. Right now, that was the least of my troubles.

"I'll be up in a while, Bobbseys" I purred before they had completely left the room. When they had shut the door completely, my head turned mechanically back to eye Beth. "What did Stephen tell you about what I had said exactly?" I noticed Stephen tense.

She hesitated, her eyes flickering from my face to Stephens. "He, um, he said that when he had told you about our project you had insisted on us having the needed discussion over a meal at your home. He said that you'd said that you'd be in work and so we'd have privacy and that the girls, um, I mean Caroline and Cassidy, would be busy upstairs with homework so there would be no interruptions and we could work in adequate surroundings.." I was disgusted. She'd agreed to something that sounded so cheap and to top it off dressed as if she herself wanted to impress. Hadn't she realized that this man was in fact my husband?

It took a while of pursing my lips and tensing my neck to realize that she was not the one in the wrong here. My husband was the one to have suggested such a thing and he suggested it happen behind my back while pretended that it was all my idea. I could feel my cheeks beginning to heat up. My mind was suddenly filled with pictures of both my husband and this wench at it at work. It could have happened. For all I know it could have.

"When were you going to tell me you were being unfaithful?" I turned around, trying to let it show that I wasn't utterly appalled at what I had just been told. I could sense _Beth _looking at Stephen, pleading with her eyes for him to step in and save her from the dragon lady.

"Miranda, how dare you question my faithfulness?" Something happened in my mind. It didn't click, it wasn't a realization It was more like something smashing inside my head. I turned on my heels.

"Excuse me?" I spat. "I have all the right to question your faithfulness. You said it yourself that I am wonderful at noticing peoples body language and I think it is very shallow of you to think that I wouldn't notice you suddenly start to wear after shave to work or wearing the most expensive suits that you owl to casual affairs or the shirt that you know I adore. You've been making an effort for somebody and I know that effort wasn't for me. After all, I wasn't even told of this little gathering. You made an effort for this, didn't you? Making sure that you would have the place to yourself. How can you ask me how I would dare question your faithfulness when you are lacking the ability to keep what is inside your trousers from planning an evening with the blonde badly dressed woman at work?" _Beth _gasped, making me turn my face towards her. "Oh, don't take me wrong. I find what you are wearing quite acceptable but because it is on you, with that less than appealing figure and rather dull complexion, it just simple degrades every piece of clothing on your body."

"Miranda." Stephen looked appalled. "Beth is our guest; you can't just insult her like that."

I scoffed. "Our guest?" I smiled at the woman menacingly. "You can leave now." _Beth's _face was a picture. Her mouth gaped open, not quite sure what to do. "Do you have a coat?" I wandered out of the room, signalling for her to follow.

Like clockwork, I heard footsteps run up the stairs as I opened the kitchen door. The girls had been listening. I rolled my eyes. Opening the closet door, I instantly knew that her coat was the bright fuchsia rain coat attempting to blend in between the many better attempts at fashion. I took it off of the hanger and, more or less, tossed it at the woman who clutched it to her chest. I wandered towards the front door and opened it, a gust of cold air causing my hair to dramatically blow away from my face. The smile returned to my face as she obviously searched her mind for something to say. When she was finally standing outside, tugging her vile coat over her shoulders, she went on "Thank you, Stephen, for a wonderful evening. It has been-" Sadly, the door had already been closed and I was unable to hear the rest of her sentence.

I finally let go of my smile and glared at Stephen. I notice his neck tense slightly as he twisted his head, examining the look in my eyes. "I'll be upstairs." He muttered, turning and pushing himself up the stairs. I was still standing, hand on the door knob, after shutting the door on _Beth. _Removing my hand, I placed them on my hips as I looked around the room. What if this wasn't the first time something along these lines had happened? What if she'd been here before? What if they'd already crossed the boundaries of being unfaithful? What if they had been in our bedroom? I then rolled my eyes. It wouldn't be _our _bedroom for much longer.

I was too angry and worked up at the moment. I needed something that would take the burn off this new wound without showing it stung too badly. I knew I had never been enough but replacing me while we were still in a relationship was something to a new level for Stephen. Wandering into the kitchen once again, a full glass of wine was soon held in my hand as I gulped it down desperately. When the liquid was devoured, I welcomed the sting in the back of my throat. I let the breath I must have been holding go, and somehow, some of the stress locked up in my body vanished.

**11:05pm**

Somehow, I'd moved to the lounge. I hadn't drunk anymore, knowing that I couldn't afford work the next day with a hangover, so sat with my trusty coffee mug full to the brim with steaming hot coffee and my feet on the white fur rug. Questions hadn't stopped spinning around my mind. I wanted desperately to go upstairs and slaughter the man I had the ultimate pleasure of calling my husband.

I looked at the clock. It was late. I suddenly remembered I hadn't yet said goodnight to my girls. I sipped my coffee and placed the cup on the coffee table next to the chair and slipped my heels back on. The clicking as I walked made some of the power I felt I had lost while thinking things over came flooding back. It was amazing how a pair of stunning heels could make you feel. The clicking stopped as my heels connected with the carpet on the stairway.

Peeping my head around their doors, I noticed they were both already asleep but that their lamps were both still turned on. Entering the room, as quiet as five inch heels would let me, I stood in between both beds, turning Caroline's lamp off first and placing a kiss on her forehead. When I turned to Cassidy's, I noticed her eyes were open.

"You okay?" She mouthed.

"I'm fine." I lied but made my eyes look warm, pulling her blanket higher around her shoulders.

"I didn't know that you didn't know." She whispered. "I'm sorry." Smiling, I leaned down and kissed her forehead like I had done Caroline's.

"You're not to blame, darling." I ran my finger down the bridge of her nose. "Sleep well." I attempted leaving the room as quietly as I had entered. When I was successful, I closed the door behind me and decided I should make my way to bed, The Book could wait until the morning. I climbed the second stair case to my bedroom, hesitating when I heard a door close. Had he gone into our bedroom to sleep? Whatever was going to happen would happen now. I climbed the last couple of stairs and turned to walk down the corridor to our room. Stephen obviously hadn't gone into our room as he was walking towards me.

I stopped in my tracks, pursing my lips. My nose wrinkled as I turned around and began walking to the sitting area on this floor. He followed. He knew that if he didn't follow I would have more to say to him.

He didn't close the door behind him, but held his hand on the door frame. He looked almost, in his expression, like he was asking for me to "get on with it." I placed a finger on my lip, thinking of how I was going to start this. Shaking my head, I decided to just get things out of my system.

"How long have you been trying to impress her?" I couldn't look him in the eye. I was too disgusted.

"How long have I not been able to impress you?" I arched my eyebrow. I hadn't been expecting that.

"After this evening, I am not in the mood to turn this into an argument about me. I want answers. How long?" My hand shifted and rested against my hip. I looked him in the eye now. I was not playing games here.

"Around three months." He gave in. He'd cracked. I could see it in his eyes. He felt guilty. I didn't care.

"Has she been here, to our home, before?"

"Yes."

"Did she think I knew about that invitation too?"

"No."

"So she was here of her own accord?"

"Yes."

"Was it an excuse tonight?"

"No. She actually thought she'd been invited."

"Has she been," I paused, "upstairs?" he knew what I meant. He knew I meant in the bedroom.

He hesitated. "Not as such." My breath shook as I breathed in. It was raspy, almost painful. It was my turn to crack.

"W-what do you mean 'not as such'?" I pulled my hand to my face, delicately pressing the tips of my fingers to my lips as my eyes averted from his.

"It'd hurt you too much." His mouth opened, but nothing came out. "I'm sorry."

I snorted, how dare he say he was sorry? "No, you're really not sorry." I moved over to the love seat, propping myself on the arm rest. "You wouldn't have done it if you were sorry. You would have seen the error of your ways and wouldn't have let it get this far." I cleared my throat. "And what's more, you wouldn't have brought the girls into this."

"I didn't bring the girls into this. They found out." He'd pushed his head forward slightly, already trying to dig himself out of things. "I was on the phone to Beth and they walked in, they thought I was speaking to you, and asked me to tell you that they loved you. I said I couldn't and then they all but interrogated me on why. I had to tell them but I never wanted to bring them into this."

"You told them I knew she was invited. It's awful you lied to me but to lie to my girls is something else." Closing my eyes, I sighed. "Another disappointment."

"Disappointment?" He sounded appalled. I smiled, nodding. "You're acting like only I'm in the wrong here."

I blinked at him. "Am I the one having the affair with a un-classy woman from my office?"

"No, but you're what pushed me to have that affair. I came home every night expecting a family, a wife that loved me but no."

I couldn't believe it. He was, successfully, turning this on me. I didn't know what to say. I pushed myself off of the arm rest of the love seat. I felt as if he had punched me in the rib cage. I couldn't breathe. Maybe, just maybe, it was my fault.

"I didn't want you to feel unloved, Stephen. That was never my intention."

"You may have no wanted it but it's what happened. I thought I could accept that you had a really important job and that you really cared for it but I was left alone. I didn't expect to be left alone." He stepped closer to me. I didn't back away. "The commitment that you have to your job is almost painful. You were never there. The amount of times I have been stuck in a restaurant or at a event waiting for you to arrive and you just didn't. It was like I had to have an appointment to see my own wife. It was heart breaking and aggravating all in one." Again, he stepped forward. "You know how much I've wanted you sometimes and you're just not home." It made me scoff. "That want has vanished." My breath caught in my throat. "You've let yourself go Miranda. You don't look like what you first looked like when we got married."

"I have not—" He cut me off.

"You don't see yourself how I see you. You're no longer desirable. Even when you were you were very rigid." He stepped forward. I was now uncomfortable. I stepped back, eye connecting with his. He looked angry.

"I can't believe you're convincing me you having an affair was my fault." I turned my head, my hair falling in front of my eyes. I moved my hand up to move it but suddenly, Stephens hand was around my wrist.

"This was your entire fault, Miranda! You have nothing to blame me for!" He shouted. I was wincing. "I'm sorry you're such a bitch, but I can't handle it anymore!" He forced my hand back by my side. His grip was tight but I refused to admit that I was in pain. "You were really bad in bed." He said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. I was. I never meant to be such a failure.

"I'm going out. Don't expect me back tonight." He finally let go and left, slamming the door behind him, making me jump.

Then, the tear rolled down my face. I looked at my wrist. It looked normal but internally, it was throbbing. I let a gravelly sob leave my lips, but quickly covered my mouth with my fingers. He could still be in the house. I didn't want him knowing how he had broken me.

There I sat, on the arm chair of the love seat clutching my wrist. There was a slight tap at the door. I inhaled sharply. He'd come back for more. I wasn't scared but I couldn't face him again. I wasn't strong enough. That's when dainty fingers wrapped around the side of the door as it opened.

It was Andrea.

"Oh god." I whispered.

**11:30pm**

"Miranda, are you alright?" She sounded so close, yet I couldn't even fathom how much distance I had given myself. I pursed my lips, trying with every fiber in my being to look like I hadn't been affected by what she had just witnessed. "Miranda?" She stepped further up the stairs and I instinctively stepped backwards. "I won't hurt you." Her eyebrows were raised, her eyes shiny, her lips parted. She didn't look tense. Could I believe her? Everybody I'd believed so far had thrown the 'truth' back to me where I'd obviously missed and let it break.

"Do you know what time it is, Andrea?" I turned my head away from her, not being able to look her in the eye. When she stopped dead in her tracks and rested her hand on the banister for support, I continued. "It's time that you got home to your lover." I coughed, clearing my throat from anything that may show the fact I was almost reaching breaking point. I went to leave, lifting my body from the arm of the love seat I had propped myself on moments before Andrea has arrived but her hand was circling my wrist before I could escape.

"Miranda, I am not leaving until I know you are okay." I blinked at her. Why was she still here? I understand, asking that question gives the impression that I wished for her to leave, for her to flea and pretend that she hadn't seen a thing. If you thought that on first impression, you are wrong. I simply ask myself why she was still here because if I were her, I would have left the foolish old woman standing in front of me to be by herself. I wouldn't have stayed. I wouldn't have cared to stay, but Andrea, she cared. "Sit down, we can talk about this." I could feel myself being pulled to the love seat. "I'll get you something to drink, to take your mind off of things."

I watched as she walked around the room effortlessly. She knew where everything was, not once did she stop in her tracks and wonder if something was kept in the right draw or the left. She returned with two large glasses of whiskey in hand. I took one, thanking her internally. Her smile, fresh, bright, everything I wasn't.

"So," she sipped at her whiskey, "tell me how all of this started." She sat so close next to me, but oddly, I didn't feel the need to move away from her. This was comfortable, not intimidating. I took a deep breathe, unsure. "I'm not going to bite, Miranda. You can trust me"

And with that, I handed her my soul.


	6. Chapter 6

**MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY. I HOPE YOU ALL HAD AN AMAZING TIME (and if I don't update before the New Years) AND I HOPE YOUR NEW YEARS WILL BE JUST AS AMAZING.**

**Saturday – 9:02am**

As he'd promised, Stephen hadn't come home last night. I presumed he'd gone around to see Beth. I wasn't going to stop him. Yes, it hurt but no, I wasn't going to act like a teenager about things and run after him and plead him not to leave me.

Andrea had persuaded me to have a day off, promising she'd reschedule everything from my day to a more convenient date. For me, it wasn't convenient. I felt well enough to go into work for the run through scheduled and to check up on the art department but Andrea simply wouldn't let me. So, there I lay in bed, passed nine am on a Saturday. This was a once in a life time experience. I wasn't enjoying it as much as other people claim to enjoy a morning in bed. Sighing, knowing that my girls were oblivious to the fact that their mother was upstairs, I threw the sheets from my body and grabbed my black silk robe. I slipped it over my shoulders and tied it loosely around my hips. I took an extra moment to examine my wrist. It was still painful. A slight bruise had formed but nothing extreme but I didn't want the girls to see and ask questions so I tugged the sleeves tightly around my wrist before putting both hands in my pockets. I didn't brush my hair or apply make-up, Caroline and Cassidy knew what their mother looked like, before I opened the door to my bedroom and went down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen.

When I reached the bottom step, standing where I had heard Beth's laugh the evening before, I heard both my girls singing. Cara must have been making breakfast with them, the radio buzzing in the background. My bare feet padded silently over to the kitchen door and I had no shame in leaning delicately against the kitchen door frame and watching the three dance around the kitchen. Cara was a blessing and I adored her but the only thing that would have made this performance better would have been if Cara was replaced with someone I could call my other half. I wanted and felt as if I needed someone who the girls could call a parent, as such, dancing around the kitchen with them on a Saturday morning while making pancakes or waffles. Neither of them had ever taken to Stephen and their father had never treated them like this. When I had the time, I would let the girls choose what we would cook and it would be me dancing around the kitchen as if I was young again but those times were getting less and less frequent.

Without realising what I was doing, I coughed into my hand. Both girls' heads flew around to see who had been watching them. My heart lifted when both of their faces lit up, big pearly smiles on their face. Caroline was the first to rush over and wrap her arms around my waist. Cassidy followed with a close second. Cara threw the cloth in her hand over her shoulder and rested a hand on her hip.

"How do you feel?" Cara smiled. I was busy kissing the hair of my wonderful girls to notice how deep that question was meant to be.

"Awake." I smiled, feeling I'd got out of an awkward conversation before running my fingers through both girls long red pony tails. These girls were the definition of beauty.

"I got a message from Andrea," my hands froze and two pairs of small green eyes slowly filtered over my facial expression, "I've been told you have a temperature and need pancakes." She winked at me. She knew more than she was letting on and I was so thankful she was holding back, at least until the girls were out of ear shot.

"Mom, do you feel okay?" Caroline was suddenly full of concern. "You need to eat."

"Must have been one hell of a temperature for Miranda Priestly to miss a day of work." Cassidy always had the power to make me chuckle. They both rushed away, one grabbing a bowl from under the sink and the other going through the fridge while muttering the names of product meant to go into the pancakes.

"What pancakes are you two making?" I went to sit down at the breakfast bar. My being ill – my lack of make-up more than likely being more to convince the girls than Cara's statement – made both girls more enthusiastic than anything to please.

"Well," Cassidy started, "Caroline was thinking chocolate chip but I was thinking strawberry and then Cara came up with both so you actually have a choice." She now had flour covering the skin on her face, even a section of her lip. While Caroline was walking passed her sister, she took it upon herself to blow at Cassidy and send the flour on her face in all different directions. This was exactly what I needed to cheer me up.

"I'll have one of both." I announced. Cara placed today's newspaper in front of me, knowing that I would wish to catch up. As I flicked through, she also placed a glass of water and my cell phone on the table so I wouldn't have to reach to get them. Before continuing my newspaper I checked my phone.

Two messages.

The first message was from Andrea, 6:03: _I've just got into work. I'll take care of everything. I explained to Nigel that you felt ill last night and were unable to do the book and he said he'd take a look at it with "the eyes of Miranda" and do his best to please. I also left Cara a note saying you and Stephen had argued last night and didn't want the girls to worry but were staying home. Have a nice day with the girls. Text me if you need anything. Seriously Miranda, anything. Andrea x_

I smiled, not sure if I was happy that she had been let into my mind last night or on edge that somebody now knew the inside of my head. At least I knew I could count on her. Leaving Cara a message to warn her of my presence and to keep the girls from finding out the wrong way was incredibly thoughtful, even from an assistant.

The second, from Stephen, 8:45: _I won't be home until late tonight._

Well, that was blunt. My tongue was now resting against my top lip, not tense, just resting. I re-read it several times searching for a hidden meaning. Of course, I didn't find one.

I locked my cell phone before pushing it back to its place on the table. I inhaled deeply, an intense pressure building in my lungs, before sighing as Cassidy placed a plate on top of the article I was reading with a pile of 3 pancakes.

"I was reading that." I stated, but her cheeky smile minimised the glare I was giving her into a smirk. When everyone was seated at the breakfast bar I picked up my knife and fork and cut all the pancakes into small pieces. Caroline and Cassidy were both staring at me, anticipating what I would say. After a moment, I took a piece of the chocolate chip pancake and put it into my mouth, chewing. Caroline had a smile on her face while Cassidy was shaking her head, probably not being able to believe how annoying her mum was.

I swallowed and whispered, "Acceptable."

Both girls burst into fits of laughter. "Seriously, Mom. Come on, what do you think?" Caroline's smile was wonderful; it brought my own smile to life.

"I'm joking. These are the best pancakes I've ever tasted. You did well." They both laughed, handing Cara her plate of pancakes and sat down on the table next to me.

As I ate the pancakes slowly, Stephen came into my mind.

"_You've let yourself go Miranda" _I could hear him say. "_You don't look like what you first looked like when we got married_". I suddenly actually felt ill. I swallowed the pancake that was already in my mouth but then placed the fork I was using onto the plate.

"You full, Mom?" The girls had already finished their breakfast. I nodded, not knowing what else to do. "Does that mean I can steal the pancake left on your plate?" I rolled my eyes, picking up my plate and passing it to Cassidy.

I wanted to eat but I was suddenly overcome with how pancakes were just going to make my body worse than it already was. I sighed.

"I'm going in the shower." I announced before quickly collecting my cell phone, getting up and leaving. I must have left the room in an incredibly awkward silence but didn't mind. I needed to get away from distractions and just sit down and think. I put off thinking about what was happening a lot recently and just stuck to thinking about how I could better myself. Andrea said, despite what people thought, thinking about your situation was good for you and that only when you thought too often did it become dangerous.

I sat myself down on my bed, and closed my eyes. I went through what Andrea and I had discussed the night before.

_"So," she sipped at her whiskey, "tell me how all of this started." She sat so close next to me, but oddly, I didn't feel the need to move away from her. This was comfortable, not intimidating. I took a deep breathe, unsure. "I'm not going to bite, Miranda. You can trust me"_

_I gave in. "I didn't mean to be so" running my finger around my glass or whiskey, I thought, "weak around him." I took a small sip of the liquid, the effects of the liquor doing nothing to calm how I felt. "He fell in love and married a strong woman but it looks like she's breaking. I don't know if I can fix her." I shook my head. I saw no hope for the future. I only saw all the ways it could possibly get worse._

"_That woman is still strong. Yes, she's different but she's still so strong." The corner of her mouth curled into a smirk. It was a friendly smirk, one that said "_how can you not believe what I am saying?" _and not "_I'm talking out of my ass."

_I shook my head. She didn't know. "You don't know." I tried smiling, showing that I did feel slight happiness right now but I failed. My smiled faded as my eyes slowly began to fill up with tears. "You don't know anything."_

"_Then tell me. I'm not going to glamorise what telling me will achieve. I can't make it all vanish, Miranda. But I can help it go away, step by step. And if I can't help you've got someone who you can talk to. Someone you don't have to keep up an image for. I'm not going to judge you if you show me the side of yourself that you keep hidden from everyone." She took my hand in hers and her eyes gave me a warm look, almost a virtual hug. Then was when I felt a small drop of water run down my face. She let my hand go, it almost hurt, before she took my drink from my hand and placed both of the glasses on the table next to the chair. She turned back to me. "Now come on, we can't have you crying." She whispered. Her fingers reached for my face, I flinched away. After Stephen grabbing me earlier, I really didn't want anybody touching me. "Miranda, I'm not gonna hurt you." I breathed out shakily as her fingers rubbed the moisture from my face. "Story telling time, come on." Her hands, both of them, entwined with my fingers which sat weak on my lap._

"_You'll walk away." My voice cracked. I must have looked so pathetic._

_She chuckled. "I swear on your _Prada _heels that I will not walk away." I smiled for the first real time in an hour. "Nobody wants Miranda without her Prada heels." _

"_My marriage is dead. We're not in love anymore. That is obvious. I don't know if I can say I'm out of love but I can't say I'm in love. I can't say it for him either but him not being in love with me is more likely than me not being in love with him." I was rambling. I was rambling to an assistant. I was rambling to an assistant who held the crown for rambling. I wonder what she thought of that. "I think he's out of love."_

"_What makes you say that?" Her thumb had started tracing small patterns on the back of my hand. It was soothing._

"_He's been having an affair with some unattractive blond woman from where he works." I removed one of my hands from hers and wiped away another round of tears falling. "Well, he still is." One of her hands moved from mine and rubbed just under my shoulder. "I bet he's there right now." Again, my voice cracked. "How much of tonight did you hear?"_

"_From when he started shouting." I was thankful she didn't remind me of what he had said. "I had to come up and see if you were okay. I couldn't just leave." Her hands returned to mine and I squeezed her fingers gently. _

"_So you heard him call me a bitch?" I looked at the ground, batting away more pathetic little tears. She nodded lightly. "Did you hear what he said after that?" I couldn't stomach her knowing he thought I was bad in bed. There was now a possibility that she'd heard. This was humiliating. She nodded. She seemed almost embarrassed. _

_I let out a sob. I felt so stupid. She knew what my husband thought of me in the bedroom. How could I get any lower? I bent at the waist; both of my hands leaving hers as I basically folded myself up in shame. She must have realised how ashamed I was as she calmed me with soft a soft "shhh" and wrapped her arm around my back._

"_It's okay, Miranda." I must have looked a sight._

"_No it's not." I sniffed, straightening but hiding my face in my hands. "You heard him saying that I was bad in…" I couldn't finish the sentence. "This is so humiliating. He hates touching me."_

"_Miranda, how could someone hate touching you?" I chocked on the air in my lungs. What had she just said? I looked at her. Her eyes were wide. I don't think she herself could believe she'd said it. "I am so sorry, Miranda." _

"_No, what did you mean?" It was my turn to hold her hand._

"_Miranda, I didn't mean to have it sound like that." Her mouth looked as if it was searching for words. "It made me sound disrespectful and I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say it."_

"_I didn't mean for you to hear Stephen and I talking tonight but here I am explaining it to you. It's now your turn." My _Ice Queen _image had returned, guns blazing. I sat up straight with one legged hooked over the other. The only thing giving away the fact that I was still quite fragile was my hands. They were still entwined in Andrea's fingers. It was a wonderful feeling._

"_I," She swallowed, "I just don't think that somebody that doesn't appreciate such," she paused, her neck tensing as she looked me in the eye. This must have been so difficult to say for her, "such beauty shouldn't be allowed to touch you. I know he's said something about your image and can I just add that it's complete bullshit?" She didn't flinch at her own use of language. She shook her head lightly, "How someone could not see how stunning you are and not be completely blinded by," she took a moment to think before sighing and smiling, "by you is beyond my level of intelligence. He was blessed when you let him touch you. He's throwing that away."_

_I gave a weak smile, not believing what she said but, I'm not going to lie, revelled in every word she'd spoken. Her fingers began tracing my fingers. She moved up to my wrist. I was watching intently but then, she hit somewhere that hurt. Stephen, even when he was not here, ruined the moment with his handy work. I hissed and flinched. Her eyes suddenly looked at me with concern._

"_Are you okay?" She blinked. "Did I hurt you?"_

"_No, _you _didn't." I pulled my hands from hers. I was ashamed of how much vulnerability she had already seen of me. _

"_What did he do?" I rolled my eyes._

"_He grabbed my wrist." I sniffed. "May you pass my drink?" She shifted back into assistant mode._

"_He grabbed you?" She looked shocked, appalled, disgusted. "Bastard." She whispered. "If he does it again, Miranda, I will—" I cut her off._

"_You will do nothing. This is my business and you will treat my wishes with respect." I looked her dead in the eye. I was not joking when I said this. Lifting the glass to my lips, I broke the contact our eyes held. _

"_Miranda, I can't let you come into work tomorrow." I was thankful I had swallowed the liquid, as if it was still in my mouth it would have gone soaring over Andrea. _

"_Excuse me?" I simply could not believe what I'd heard._

"_You're staying at home. No question about it. If you come into work tomorrow I will burn The Book in front of you." I narrowed me eyes. She wouldn't dare. "Don't think I wouldn't because you're my boss. This is your mental health we're talking about. You need to rest and to think about what you're going to do."_

"_I don't want to rest and think." My eyebrows were furrowed together._

"_It'll help Miranda." She nodded, reassuring. "Just don't over-rest or over-think. That's when it gets dangerous." _

My cell phone vibrating in my hand was what brought me back to the present moment. I sniffed and let myself slouch as I unlocked the small machine in my hands.

It was from Andrea. _Nigel's finished with the book but isn't sure it's up to your standards. Is it okay if I come to the town house over my lunch break for you to check it out? I'll bring coffee. Andrea x_

Back to work. I hurried a short reply saying that it would be fine before lying back on my bed, whimpering slightly as the black silk of my robe traced my shoulder blades. I was content. Truly content.


	7. Chapter 7

**12:07pm**

Andrea's message had been the motivation I needed to pull myself from the thoughts of last night and actually get in the shower. The water burnt my skin, leaving a rosy glow to it as I stepped out from under the thrashing heat. The towel I wrapped around my body had been lying against the radiator. My skin almost felt as if it was humming as the warm fabric touched my warm skin.

I stood in the bathroom staring at my appearance in the mirror. Was I really so revolting? I saw nothing out of the ordinary when it came to female anatomy. I admit, I was obviously older than the woman I looked at day to day, but, there was nothing insanely out of place. I didn't have acne on random parts of my body or discoloured skin and there were only one or two scars from my youth. Other than the bruise now formed on my wrist I didn't have anything "wrong" with my body. I was small, it was a common fact that I was small even wearing heels, so it couldn't be I'd put on weight. I couldn't find what was wrong with me but I still disliked what I saw.

I sighed, pulling the towel tighter around myself and pursed me lips as I stepped closer to the mirror. Hair dryer in hand, I began the task of styling my hair. My hair was well behaved, it dried in the same style naturally as it did when I dried it myself and often didn't require any heat to get the style just right. I didn't like people doing my hair. It was different with my make up, I adored somebody else pampering my face but my hair was strictly mine. After a couple of minutes my hair had the signature curl to the fringe and I set the circle brush and hair dryer down and began slowly moving my fingers around my face. I massaged a small touch of foundation into my skin, not enough for it to be noticeable but enough that I felt slightly more confident; then came the lipstick, a couple of shades darker than my skin tone, and subtle smoky eyes. I never liked to overdo it with makeup. It was the outfit that attracted me to somebody, never the makeup. An outfit was personal, it would tell you a small amount about somebodies personality and what to expect when you spoke to them. Makeup, on the other hand, hides that person and causes an illusion of perfection when really; the personality under that falseness could be just as appealing as eating dog food.

I un-wrapped the towel from my body and threw it into the washing basket for Cara – she hated me leaving them on the bathroom floor – and scurried out into my room. I quickly had black, matching of course, lace underwear clad onto my body and it didn't take me long to find a suitable pair of black Chanel slacks and a casual enough Prada white blouse. I topped it off with trusty black Louboutin's before giving myself a once over in the mirror and stepping out of my door, locking it and clicking down both flights of stairs.

When I entered the kitchen, the two redheads were no longer sitting at the counter. I heard voices from the lounge attached to the kitchen and quickly presumed they were both watching television. Cara, bless her, was cleaning up the mess the girls must have made after I had gone upstairs. She had heard me coming as she turned when I was around 3 feet away from the fridge.

"They made a cake." She looked at me with knowing eyes. I knew they hadn't made the cake. I knew that Cara had made it and they had scooped out the remains from the bowl before claiming they had done all the hard work. That was how it went around here. "It got everywhere. I'll be done and out of your hair in about half an hour."

I opened the fridge door and pulled out some orange juice. "Take all the time you need." The small glass I poured the orange juice into was the perfect size of my hand and felt somewhat sensual as I pressed the rim to my lip gently before taking a gulp of the chilling liquid.

"You seem calm today." She interrupted my thoughts. All I could do was nod. I didn't know in what other way I was supposed to respond. "I know what happened last night, between you and Stephen." My neck tensed through natural reaction. I didn't like people being let into my mind. I just couldn't process somebody else sharing the same information I kept inside my head. "Can I see your wrist?" This was where the shock became too much and I looked at her, alert.

"How did you…" I decided I didn't want to know how much Andrea had told her in the letter, setting the glass in my hand down on the counter in front of me and completing the journey between myself and my house keeper. I undid the buttons holding my blouse around my wrist, not taking my eyes away from hers and simply placed my wrist at a distance that she could examine.

Then, she lowered her eyes and saw the bruise that had formed. Her gasp wasn't masked enough to hide it.

"I'll get some cold peas." I rolled my eyes. I was being treated like a child. I trusted her, but was this necessary?

The bag of peas was placed on the breakfast bar and Cara stood next to where she expected me to sit, hand on her hip and eyebrows raised.

"You're developing quite the attitude, Cara." I picked up the glass of orange juice and turned, planning to walk out the room and not let myself be dropped to being treated as if she was my mother.

"Miranda." She scolded. Now she did sound like my mother. I turned on my heels, eyes wide and accusing. Cara flinched at the look in my eye but she didn't back down. Stubbornness. Something both her and Andrea shared but something Andrea wouldn't let falter by a look from me. "Miranda," she said softer, "this is good for you."

I rolled my eyes. Now this was how to make a woman feel powerless. I strode slowly across to her and sat gently down onto the stool. She held her hand out, expecting me to move my wrist into her grip. When I totally ignored the offer and rested my wrist against the bag of freezing cold peas, it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"All you can do is rest it." My lips automatically pursed.

"Is there no way of just simply working around it?" My fingers moved my blouse's sleeves up my arms. I knew a little of the thin layer of ice coating the bag wouldn't hurt but when I finally got my arm off this bag of vegetables I didn't want small shards of ice coating my sleeve.

"Miranda, you're right handed. This is your right wrist. Writing notes for the book or writing replacement pieces when you think an article isn't good enough isn't going to do it any good. I'd even lay off going on your laptop to type for a day or two." Again, my lips pursed. I would work around this. I didn't care if I needed an arm replacement, I would not let this get in my way.

"I'm not going to sit back and let it stop me working." I reached over and took the orange juice in my left hand, bringing the glass to my lip as I had done earlier. I drew it away before whispering, "I won't be able to explain it". The whisper was more for me than for Cara, but of course, being a mother and sister, she had an answer for everything.

"You're Miranda Priestly. Since when does she have to explain anything?" She smiled, getting back to the work she was doing when I had walked into the room. I inhaled deeply, thinking over what she had said. I could get away with this. Out of everyone, the most likely to even consider asking was Nigel and he wouldn't even dare cross the line with me. Andrea already knew and she had enough sense not to spread it around, well, to anybody who didn't need to know. I sighed, content enough that nobody would find out.

As if by magic, I heard heels coming from the hallway. Andrea.

I quickly grabbed the peas and flung them at Cara, who caught them thank goodness. Her eyes widened, as if questioning what I was doing. When Andrea finally reached the door, her eyes shrunk again obviously realising what was running through my mind. She knew I was a private person and I didn't want Andrea knowing that it stung as much as it did.

My eyes flashed back to Andrea, confident that she hadn't seen that little scene. She held up the book in her left hand, a broad smile on her face – I wish I looked like that when I smiled – and held up the cup of Starbucks in the other. "I brought gifts." She sang. I rolled my eyes, un-linked my legs and swivelled on my chair so I was facing her. "Shall I take them to the study?" Her smile didn't falter. I got to my feet, put my hands on her shoulders and quickly turned her around and pushed her gently towards the stairs. "Here's your coffee." She attempted to pass over her shoulder, not yet moving from where she stood.

"Yes, hold it until we get upstairs." I pushed slightly harder.

"What?" She asked in a "what have I done?" tone of voice. Again, I rolled my eyes as I pushed her once again. I could sense Cara chuckling and shaking her head at the way I had treated my assistant like she was one of the girls but right now, I needed to work and I didn't want to do it at the breakfast bar around the two people that knew what had happened between myself and my husband. If I didn't control the conversation while working, they would more than likely ended up talking about the whole situation. I gave up pushing her as we reached the top of the first flight of stairs, trusting she knew her way from there. I followed behind her in silence, needing to get my hands on the book.

When we were finally in the study, I shut the door behind me and practically grabbed the book off of the young girl and strode over to the desk. I almost had a smile on my face. Her smile was back on her face as she held up the cup of coffee. My arm stretched out, fingers swaying slightly waiting for the cup to appear in my hand. I nodded at Andrea lightly when it finally arrived and I sat down. I let Andrea wander around the study while I looked over the book, only having to add one or two notes. I was almost impressed at Nigel's competence. Cara was right though; my wrist was slowly beginning to throb even with the slightest work. I twisted my wrist several times before putting the pen down and closing the book.

"How is it?" Andrea chirped.

"Nigel did a good job." I said simply, pushing the book away from me slightly and leaning back in my chair, crossing my legs over one and another.

"Miranda," her voice was soft. I turned my gaze to her. "I meant your wrist." She smiled. It was gentle, friendly.

I pursed my lips. I didn't want to mention how much it was throbbing and how I wasn't actually planning on letting it heal or get any better. "It's fine." I ran my tongue over my front teeth and grabbed the book and positioned in my lap. I swivelled in my chair so my back was towards her. I heard Andrea chuckle and turned slightly back, not completely but enough so I could see that smile before scowling and turning back.

"You're so stubborn, Miranda." I could hear the smile in her voice but didn't choose to act upon it. I stayed silent leaving her to break the silence. "Can I see it?" My head thudded lightly as it hit the back rest of the chair. I sighed, turning back and casually putting the book on the table.

"It's really not as bad as I can guarantee you are picturing in your mind." For the second time that day I rolled up my sleeve. I hadn't re-done up my button since earlier so it wasn't long before Andrea was holding my wrist in her hand and lightly running her fingers over it, a look of either concentration or concern on her face. I couldn't pin which one it was.

"Yes," she whispered, "it's not as bad as I pictured in my mind." She looked me in the eye, a playful grin on her face. Somehow, that was enough to pull a playful grin out of me. What was the world coming to? "But it's also not normal, Miranda." She let my wrist go and let her hands fall to her lap as I re-did the buttons on the cuff of my shirt.

"Well, there's nothing we can do now, is there?" I leaned back, once again, in my chair and went to swivel back around. Andrea leaned quickly over the table between us and grabbed the arm of my chair, stopping me.

"Talk to my face, not to the wall." I rolled my eyes, but gave up trying to turn in my chair and accepted that this conversation would happen whether I wanted it to or not. "You just have to rest it."

"You're the one person who can't tell me to rest my wrist, Andrea. This agreement was having just today off work, nothing more." I looked her in the eye. I was being serious. "I will be in work tomorrow. I am missing a run through today to just sit at home and do absolutely nothing."

"Spending a morning with your children is absolutely nothing?" Her eyes had narrowed but her mouth was an obvious smile. I could not read into this girl.

"Spending time with my girls means more to me than anything but I lied to them the whole time. They think I'm ill. I don't enjoy lying Andrea, you should know that." She did know that. She knew as well as anybody did. I had only ever lied to her twice. I lied to her when I called her fat, she was not fat. I just wanted my words to sting a little more. I also lied when I said that I only thing she could do for me was her job. They were both lies and they both held so much regret that they had both brought a tear to my eye soon after I had spoken them. But Andrea, she didn't know that I had lied at those options. She just thought that everything I said and spoke was the truth, because most of the time it was.

"I know, Miranda." She pushed a chair so she could sit on the other side of the desk between us. When she was sat down, her hands stretched out and she took mine in hers. "You don't have to lie to them though. When Stephen comes home talk to him and then talk to the girls. It'll be good for all of you." She was right and I hated her for it. I nodded slightly, a silent agreement as she would not get a verbal one. The smile she gave me confirmed that she had in fact been paying attention. "Have you had lunch?" I shook my head. "Right, you're taking me out to lunch. I have three quarters of an hour left for lunch break and you owe me from yesterday." She winked and rose from her chair. I just sat there, gaping at her. My mouth was open and my eyebrows furrowed. I did not know what to say.

"Why is your lunch break suddenly so long?" I asked, not being able to even think and word any other sentence.

"My boss is ill. You're all mine for the next hour or so." She winked and pushed the chair back to its original place. I can't deny but being called all hers and having that cheeky wink sent something disturbingly warm down my spine.

"You said you only had forty five minutes." I scowled, standing up from my chair and rooting in my pocket for my cell phone.

"Nigel and Emily won't kill me if I'm late. They wouldn't let me do anything anyway because I don't have 'the Miranda touch'." She used her fingers, either side of her face, to make invisible speech marks. I smiled. How wrong they both were. She had the most 'Miranda touch' that anybody other than myself could have.

"Fine," I went quickly through my contacts, knowing what I was looking for, "I'll meet you downstairs in two minutes." Nodding, she turned and went out of the door.

When the door was obviously closed, I finally clicked the small 'call' button and put the phone against my ear. I knew things about people and I knew things about Andrea. I knew that Andrea had never been to a five star restaurant and I knew that Andrea desperately wanted to try real Italian food. I remember her telling Nigel "_pizza and pasta is just too popular for me to believe it is real Italian food anymore. I refuse to believe I've had real Italian food." _I could get Andrea that real Italian food and I could get it for free.

"Hello. You've reached Violetta's Place, how can I help you?" Violetta's Place was one of the best Italian restaurants I had ever been to.

"I'd like to book a table." I wedged my cell phone in between my shoulder and my ear, leaving me free to pick at my nails.

"We have no tables available until seven tomorrow evening. When is it you are interested in booking?" I rolled my eyes, letting my left hand fall to my waist as I used to other to hold the cell phone.

"I want a table in ten minutes."

"Ma'am," I grimaced at the name, "We have no tables until seven o'clock tomorrow evening."

"I'm not deaf. I heard you the first time. I don't like repeating myself. Don't make me ask again." I knew I hadn't asked in the first place, I had more demanded what I wanted, but the thought was there and if she didn't accept it before I lost my temper – something I, Miranda Priestly, should never do – and wrote a very detailed review concerning staff.

"Can I ask who's calling?" She was starting to sound agitated.

"Miranda Priestly." I purred but that edge of bitterness was still present.

"Oh my God," I heard her whisper. I returned my gaze to my nails. "I do, uh, believe we've got one table for quarter of an hour. That's the earliest I can get you in. Is that alright?"

I exhaled sharply, it would have to do. "Yes, fine. That's all." I hung up before writing Roy a quick message to be outside. Within seconds I received a reply saying he was already there. I flipped the cell phone and pushed it into the pockets on my trousers before straightening my shirt and going downstairs to meet Andrea. She wasn't waiting in the hall. I looked quickly inside the kitchen as I retrieved my coat from the coat cupboard and then let myself wander into the lounge where I found Andrea, Cara, Caroline and Cassidy all watching some cooking program. I leaned silently against the door frame, enjoying what I saw. They were all in wonder at the vision on the screen. Then a man, a young chef, added a dash of red wine to the frying pan and naturally it went up in flames. Both of my red headed beauties erupted in words such as "woah" and "awesome".

"Andrea," I broke in when it had returned to the silence. She turned quickly before getting to her feet. "Are we set?"

"Yes." She smiled at the girls, her hand holding out and they both held it lightly. "See you later guys. Bye Cara." They all bid her farewell and she quickly joined me as I had already begun walking towards the door. She opened the door for me; she received a nod of my head, and continued to close the door behind us. Roy stepped out of the car to open the door for both of us, quickly asking me where we going and knowing exactly what I meant when I just said Violetta's.

"So, where are we going?" Andrea finally asked. The suspense was probably eating her alive.

"Violetta's" I said, matter of factually. Her head flipped around from looking out of the window to look at my face. She was looking for some sign that I was joking. She didn't find one.

"Oh my God, Miranda!" I've said it once but I will say it again, that smile was wonderful. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking." I couldn't help but grin back at the young girl. She bit her lip, trying to conceal her obvious joy. My eyes zoned in on where she was biting, how her teeth slightly pushed the soft lip down. I imagined how that lip would feel against my skin. That would be beautiful. I was looking at her lips. Why was I looking at her lips? I shook myself out of it and quickly looked out the window but not without reaching over and taking the hand that, recently, seemed as if it belonged to me.


	8. Chapter 8

**12:28pm**

As we pulled up to Violetta's I let her hand slip from mine and swung the door of the car open. For once I was the one who held the door open for Andrea and not Roy. He stood next to me after a moment. He was probably wondering why I was in fact doing his job for him. I'm not sure if this thought was what made the corner of my lips curl upwards or the surprised look on my assistants face as she was greeted by me and not the trusty driver.

She nodded a head, a silent thank you and gave Roy a glorious smile. It wasn't a normal smile; this was almost on the verge of a giggle. My eyebrows furrowed together and I turned my gaze towards Roy. He had a look of wonder on his face as he inspected me. Andrea had gone into the restaurant, knowing fully well to use my name, as I turned towards Roy.

"What?" I muttered, pushing the door closed and pressing my lips together.

"Oh, nothing, Miranda." I could sense he was internally hitting himself as he quickly hurried around the front of the car and resumed his place as driver. I stepped away from the car before making my way into the restaurant behind Andrea. She was currently talking to a woman, who I presumed was the same woman I had spoken to earlier, at the front desk. I found my place next to Andrea; body slightly turned to hers, and listened to what was being said.

"Priestly." Andrea passed my name to the woman and she began flicking her eyes through names. I then changed my mind on this woman being the same woman I had spoken to. Nobody forgot a name within twenty minutes.

"Ah," she straightened her posture and tapped her finger several times on the word, or name, she had found. "Yes, here you are. Table for two?" She noted my presence and smiled when she received a very firm nod from both me and Andrea. She crossed off my name from the book in front of her and returned her gaze to both of us. "Right this way." She turned on her heels, signalling with a finger to walk around the table and join her. Both Andrea and I followed silently and comfortably as our shoulders brushed together. When greeted with the restaurants usual dimly lighted room with scattered tables hidden away from each other I couldn't help but sigh. I adored this restaurant. It was private. It was a restaurant where you could seriously have an in depth conversation with someone and not worry over somebody hearing.

She sat us down at the furthest table from the door we had come from. Surrounding the table was a wooden screen, just like every other table, adding a sense of privacy and home to the setting. I shrugged my coat off of my shoulders and gently let it lie on the back of my chair. As I sat down on the smooth maroon leather I let my gaze fall upon the young woman opposite me. The lack of blinding light was complimentary, adding a subtle pink sparkle around the features on her face. Her lips appeared plumper, her eyes sparkled as the light captured the chocolate brown orbs through thick black eye lashes and her hair, well that looked next to flawless. She was so beautiful. Had I skipped the age where I looked that effortlessly captivating? She looked so naturally beautiful. How people could aspire to be anything less than simply Andrea was beyond my level of knowledge.

The woman handed us both a menu which we both took with a nod of the head. I set the menu open in front of me on the table as Andrea practically hid behind it. I rolled my eyes; I simply couldn't help myself, at the silly girl sitting in front of me. I let my index finger rest on my temple and ignored my lack of manners as my elbow rested on the table as I skimmed through my options. The one dish that shouted out at me was the cannoli so; after I had decided what I would be eating I folded the menu and lifted my view to my assistant. She was still completely covered by her menu.

"Have I lost you, Andrea?" The corner of my lips lifted slightly.

Her menu came flying down in front of her, a broad smile on her face. "Oh my God, Miranda. Have you seen the food on this menu?" She skimmed the menu, pressing her finger on one and reading out what it said. "Fresh chilli, olives and garlic tossed in our Neapolitan sauce and served with penne pasta and topped with fresh rocket." She moved her finger along and said, "Chicken, penne, fresh roasted peppers and onion oven baked in a creamy Cajun cheese sauce. Glazed with Grana Padano and served piping hot to your table." She shook her head, smiling and slouched back into her chair. "This is what I want when I want Italian food."

I hadn't realised that I had gone from trying not to smile to full on grinning and biting the nail on my thumb as I watched her. I internally hit myself, shaking me from my thoughts of her beauty and happiness. "I'm glad you're happy with my choice."

"Oh, Miranda." She folded her menu and placed it on top of my own. "Your choices are always the best." Her eyes were wide as she nodded slightly.

"Sarcasm, Andrea?" I tilted my head, a head that had somehow become a typical characteristic of mine.

"Oh, no, of course not." A cheeky bite of her bottom lip made me relieve a small sigh. Why was biting that lip myself all I could think of doing?

"Hello ladies." A young woman appeared with a little book in her hand. "Any drinks for you two?"

"Yes," I cleared my throat, "your best wine. Price is not a problem." Her eyebrows lifted. She wasn't expecting what I had said, it was obvious. She quickly wrote it down in her little book, just as Andrea did at work and looked at us both again.

"Have you decided what you'll be ordering today?" I nodded but quickly glanced over at Andrea to make sure she had too. When she nodded, I held out my hand inviting her to go first.

"Uh," she tapped the table with her fingers, "Can I have the chicken, penne and peppers?" She hid behind a questioning smile. Bless her heart.

"Yes, and I'll have the cannoli." I handed the menus back to her, my lips automatically pursing.

"That's great. Your wine will be here in moments and your meal shortly after that." She left with a smile on her face as she re-read our order.

My fingers began playing with the cutlery on the table, straightening them out of habit for trying to get out of conversation than actual care on the presentation. I don't know why I was doing it. I was perfectly happy to talk to Andrea. I guess I was still comfortable with pushing people away.

"How're you feeling?" She broke the silence. I was thankful.

"Fine. Yourself?" I sighed back into my chair.

All she did was shake her head. "No, how _are _you feeling? Mentally? What's happening inside that pretty little head of yours?" Somehow this brought a small smile to my lips, but it vanished as a young man walked passed our table. I was reminded that we were not on our own and there, even though very small, was a chance that someone would hear.

"Come," I shifted closer to the wall on my side of the table. "Sit next to me."

"And you'll tell me?" I nodded, causing Andrea to practically leap from her side of the table and onto mine. I chuckled when she practically snuggled up against my side. She was smiling that smile again. Oh, how I loved that smile. "Tell me, Miranda."

Still smiling, I said "Well, I guess I just feel…" I couldn't think of the word, "un-desirable." Her eyes widened. "I just feel that I'm not special anymore. I miss that love where you yourself feel special when you're in it. I haven't put on an outfit and felt that it suits me in months. Nobody has made me feel so wanted and needed that I've been left buzzing in a long while. I miss feeling young." I realized my eyes had travelled to stare at the table so I dragged them away from the wood and moved them to Andrea's. Her eyes were wide and she was softly shaking her head. "I feel old." I finished, oddly, the smile still on my face but inside I just felt as if I was screaming for her to reassure me that I was young, I was beautiful, I was still desirable. But, I was old. No amount of reassuring could change that. Still, she shook her head.

"But," she was stopped by the waitress bring our bottle of wine. Andrea flashed the woman a smile and gave a thank you before turning back to me. "But, you're not old." It was my turn to widen my eyes. "No, hear me out." She sat up, turning her body into mine and as she hooked one of her feet behind mine so she was totally facing me but still sitting by my side. I couldn't stop the shiver going down my spine. "You may think yourself as old, but what are you, 49? 50?" I pointed a finger to the ceiling, showing it should be higher. "You're older than 50? Are you kidding me? Okay, that just proves it. If you're older than 50 and look how you do right now you're amazing. What's your secret? Okay, not the time. But Miranda, you're beautiful. You're special. You're you and that should help you feel special." She smirked. "It shows me you're special at least." I rolled my eyes.

"Of course you'd say that." I was secretly revelling in this opinion she claimed to have. I hoped more than anything that she wasn't lying because if she really thought that of me then maybe it was okay for me to think the same of her.

"You're beautiful, Miranda." She moved her fingers to my face, tracing the bridge of my nose as she rested her elbow on the back of the chair. I scrunched up my nose, her finger tips so cold against my skin but oddly, the sensation burned me. I looked at her eyes. She was looking at my lips. Why was she looking at my lips?

"Andrea?" My eyes had naturally moved to look at her lips. They were wonderfully plump. I'd never, not in any of my marriages either, looked at someone's lips and been so captivated by the shape alone. Andrea shh'd me. Oddly, I didn't mind. It meant I could look at those lips for longer. What would she do if I leant in closer? What would she do if I captured her lips against mine? Would she react? Would they feel as soft as they looked? I had to drag my eyes back from her lips to her eyes. "Andrea, are you okay?" I was pretending that me, myself, I was okay. I wasn't. I wanted her. On the outside I was fine and I was Miranda Priestly, editor-in-chief of Runway. On the inside, I was mush. On the inside I was gasping for air and I hadn't even touched her lips once. Andrea's fingers moved from where they sat pressed against my neck, to the back of my head. Again, she shh'd me. And then, she leant in forward. Our lips met.

It wasn't fireworks, dramatic music and wind machines. Oh no. It was so much better. It was Andrea. Her lips, those soft lips upon mine felt marvellous. I couldn't breathe but at the same time I was inhaling too much for my senses. This was happiness. This right here.

My hand snaked up to the side of her face. She must have remembered where and who she was with, as she pulled away. She looked shocked, not in me but herself.

"Miranda," her mouth gaped open, "I'm so sorry." Did she regret it? I didn't. All I could do was sit and look at her, look at those lips. "I can go, if you want." She looked like she was hitting herself on the inside. She looked as if the only reason why she regretting having kissed me was because she hadn't gotten my permission first. The way she had looked at my lips before she's kissed me showed how badly she wanted it.

As she went to stand up, I pulled her by her arm to sit again. "Where do you think you're going?" I questioned.

"Miranda, I know you don't want to see me right now." I rolled my eyes. For a clever girl she was being very stupid.

"Why would you think that?" I shook my head gently, just like I had on the sofa in Paris when she'd said she could cancel my evening. She must have recognised the slightly mischievous look in my eyes. She sighed back into the chair, the tenseness in both her neck and shoulders vanishing. She hadn't yet looked me in the eye. I wouldn't have her embarrassed for something we obviously both had wanted. "Andrea, I've told you what I have been thinking. I think it's time you let me in." I reached out for my wine and hooked one of my legs over the other, turning slightly into the younger woman.

"It's nothing." She flicked her hair over her shoulder, putting a smile on her face.

"Don't lie to me." I set my glass back onto the table after taking a long sip. My body was humming after that kiss. Attempting to be serious was quite difficult.

"Well," She turned her face towards mine, "I didn't mean to, uh, kiss you."

"Are you saying it was an accident?" I didn't know why but some sort of sadness made itself known inside of me. Maybe she hadn't meant to kiss me. Maybe she didn't want to and I had just read the signs wrong.

"No," she shook her head from side to side, "it wasn't an accident. Well, letting myself kiss you was but not the actual kiss." I raised an eyebrow; I had no idea what she was talking about. She sighed, "You see, I wanted to kiss you. I've wanted to for a while but I knew I couldn't let myself and I've," she winced, "and I've let myself and I shouldn't have. Letting myself kiss you was the accident and I'm sorry." I rolled my eyes. Why was I still captivated by her? Even after she'd babbled on at me I was still mentally all hers. I didn't understand my feelings. She saw me rolling my eyes and went to get up, so for a second time I took her arm and pulled her back to sit down. "What? I'm sorry. You can fire me but please don't humiliate me by giving me one of your speeches."

"You still don't see, do you?" I whispered.

"See what?" Her eyebrows furrowed together.

"Andrea," I swallowed, "I kissed you back." My fingers wrapped around my glass as I brought it to my lips once again. I didn't break eye contact with the girl. She looked as if she was processing the information she'd just been given.

"So wait," her eyes began to well up with tears. She seemed to be processing so many thoughts. "You're not gonna fire me?"

I barked a laugh. That wasn't something I did often but it was worth the look of wonder in her eyes. "Not anytime soon." I placed my wine back onto the table. One tear fell down her cheek. Instinctively, I moved my thumb to swipe the trail it left behind away.

"Thank you, Miranda." She whispered.

I wanted to move in again. I wanted to kiss her lips and take away that small piece of sadness she was now holding but of course, as soon as I even thought of moving in and capturing her lips as mine once again a waiter placed a meal on the table. I practically jumped away from her, having to steady the table and my wine as the liquid inside the glass shook.

"Are you okay?" Andrea had a smile playing on her lips. My girl was back. I nodded, folding a leg over the other.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" I blushed. I was blushing. This wasn't good. The waiter placed my meal in front of me and I stared at it awkwardly.

"Because this lovely man was dropping off out meal and you almost kissed-"

"Andrea." I glared at her, but was given a beautiful smile in return.

"Yes, Miranda?" Why was I smiling?

All I could do was smile and shake my head. "You're the cheekiest assistant I have ever had."

"But you have to admit, I'm the best assistant you've ever had." And for once, I couldn't say that she was wrong.

**Ever so sorry that I haven't updating in about 5 and a half years but OMG WRITERS BLOCK. It's so annoying. I know exactly what I want to write but when I go to actually writing it, it takes such a long time. Anyway :D Reviews please?**


	9. Chapter 9

**First and foremost, I know NOTHING about cooking so don't hate me if I'm writing the wrong stuff because quite frankly … it's expected with how much I know. **

**3:05 pm**

I closed the door to the town house silently behind me, throwing my jacket at the stairs while making an internal memo to take it up when I went. I sauntered into the kitchen, an obvious smile on my face. I noticed Cara had gone home as there was a mess, no doubt created by the two devils, left on the kitchen marble top. As there was two chocolate wrappers, a carton with no strawberries inside and a half empty bottle of milk with the lid still sitting next to it, I gathered they were watching a movie. I sighed, sorting out their mess before wiping the marble top leaving a glorious shine. Throwing the cloth into the washing up bowl, I moved over to the circle window on looking the small garden I had demanded when purchasing the house. The light coming from the sun was complimentary to the white swing set I had bought for the girls while they were younger which I now used more than them. Red roses scattered the outside of the garden, giving colour and beauty. It was all very British, as Nigel had pointed out several times.

I let myself lean up against the wall, inspecting the room in front of me. This home was magnificent. I was suddenly rather smug, knowing that my own hard work had earned me this house and home. I hadn't gotten this overnight and I felt rather proud. I sighed, content and began towards the stairs. I was heading for the girls room, to see what they were doing and when they wanted to have dinner.

I rested my head against their door, which was wide open, as they both lay on their front watching The Lion King. They'd always been drawn to Disney and I had always been secretly happy that they had never grown out of the classic cartoons Disney has once created. As the meerkat, hog and lion burst into song and both my children followed suit I couldn't help but let the slight smile on my face turn into the broadest smile I had given in a long time. The happiness in the room was warm, real and it filled me completely.

"Girls," I spoke softly, not wanting to interrupt them too much. Both heads turned to look at me, perfect smiles on their perfect faces. "When do you want dinner?" Caroline looked back at the movie, and then quickly back at me.

"Well, there isn't much left of the movie. When it's finished I'll come down and help you make it." I raised an eyebrow. She was suddenly keen.

"Yeah, me too." Cassidy joined in, I can't deny it lifted my heart.

"Alright." I smiled. "Finish your movie and bring the empty plate that you are no doubt hiding under one of your beds and we will start cooking." I turned on my heels, descending the stairs and went back into the kitchen. A note on the fridge reading "lamb leg on bottom shelf" helped me decide a traditional roast dinner would do fine. Left overs could easily be heated up the next day if Cara wanted something to eat while she worked. I grabbed carrots, potatoes, peas and sweet corn from the fridge, placing them all on the kitchen marble top before I went back to the fridge to get the leg of lamb that was already in a tray and just awaiting trimmings.

The lamb ended up next to the vegetables on the kitchen top. I took one of Cara's aprons from under the kitchen sink before putting my arms through the arm holes and tying it behind my back. I didn't want to imagine what the horrible piece of fabric looked like and how unflattering it must be but if it protected the clothing underneath it then it was worth it. I emptied the washing up bowl, putting clean plates in cupboards and knives and forks back into the cutlery draw. I dropped the vegetables into the bowl and covered all in warm water. I would do this the way I had always watched my mother do it when I was younger.

I quickly hurried over to the cutlery draw, in search of a vegetable peeler. When I found one I smirked to myself, flipping it in my hand as I walked back to the bowl of vegetables. I got to peeling the potatoes, leaving the peelings on the kitchen top and placing the peeled vegetables back into the water bowl.

I suddenly heard feet thundering down the stairs. I rolled my eyes. They knew I didn't like running in the house, but my good mood let me drop the matter as soon as they entered the kitchen.

"Right," I spoke, dropping the peeler from my hands and turning to the two girls, "I've decided that you two are in charge of dessert." Once again, two wonderful smiles beamed up at me. "What would you like to make, then?" I bent over, my elbows resting on the edge of a table as I let my face sit in my hands.

"Well, we made cake earlier so we can have that and we could make some chocolate frosting to cover it with." Cassidy turned to her sister, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes. We could decorate it. We haven't done that yet." Caroline hurried around the kitchen looking in every cupboard there was in search of things to decorate the cake with. After a few minutes of Cassidy and I watching her in amusement she had gathered an armful of different foods, such as raspberries, the ingredients for frostings and white chocolate buttons. When she dropped them on the dining table and looked at what she had collected she looked very proud of herself.

"Alright," I cleared my throat. "I'll leave you with the dining table if I can work in the kitchen without you two deciding you want to run around my feet, okay?" I received two nods.

I helped them set everything out and mix the frosting mixture before I went back to my job. Within half an hour, we had all finished. The cake was sitting happily inside a transparent cake box, the lamb- surrounded by different vegetables- was slowly cooking inside the oven and the most appealing smell was wafting through the house. Now, I and my two girls were sitting in the lounge flicking through different talk shows. Ellen had no doubted won as Cassidy was a huge fan. We sat watching the blonde chirpy woman interview some singer that was currently publicising her new album. She was actually quite funny, but I wouldn't let Cassidy know that as if she knew, she would probably hold it against me every time I asked her to turn the show off.

For now, I was content. I had the girls in my arms and had had a wonderful dinner with Andrea. Right now, I felt that nothing could hurt me.

**6:34pm**

I placed two plates of lamb, gravy and vegetables on the dinner table before calling the girls and telling them food was ready. I plated up one for myself and then one for Stephen. I didn't know when Stephen would be home, as he'd been incredibly vague, so I placed his plate in the oven to keep warm. That one move made me feel more of a wife than he himself ever had. I'd finally removed the God awful apron from my body and readjusted my blouse.

We were all sitting down comfortably, eating the rather outstanding meal –even if I say so myself- and enjoying general conversation.

"What classes do you have tomorrow?" I questioned knowing tomorrow was a Monday and they would be back at school. They both looked at each other.

"We have maths, double art and then an afternoon of science." Cassidy said while devouring her carrots, which I had let cook drizzled in gravy. I felt rather proud. I nodded, understanding that they would be very busy. I trusted that they both had completed any homework, as they were both bright girls who worked hard in school, so didn't feel the need to ask into it at all.

Moments later and we had all finished the meal. Both twins sat innocently opposite to me, grinning as I began to clean up plates. They knew that I would return with cake. They were very cheeky girls.

As if by clockwork, I brought the cake back to the table and passed Cassidy the knife while I went back to the fridge freezer to retrieve ice cream. When I returned, both girls had a rather generous piece of cake in their bowls and were busy cutting me an equally as generous piece. As soon as I sat down and took the lid off the ice cream, I heard the front door open and close. I leaned back in my chair so I could see down the hall as to who it was.

Stephen was home.

I don't know what happened, but as I sat up straight again my whole mind set had changed. I felt powerful. I felt on guard but not in a way that I felt that I could be broken. I refused to be broken again, especially in front of my children.

"Alright?" He entered the kitchen as if nothing had happened. The girls raised an eyebrow when I didn't say anything. I smiled at them, trying to reassure them that nothing was the matter but by the worried smile I got in return from Caroline, I must have done a bad job. "How was your day?" He opened the fridge and got a cold bottle of water. My back was facing him as I began to scoop ice cream into each bowl.

"Where have you been?" It must have come across quite cold and uncaring as both of my daughters smiles faded into an awkward expression.

"I was at the office." I snorted, shaking my head.

I turned in my chair, my fingers clasping around the wooden back rest. "Do you honestly expect me to believe you've been at the office the whole time? Did you sleep at the office or did you sleep at a _friend's_?" He knew what I meant when I said friend, and no doubt that the girls did too. He had been at Beth's. He looked too looked after to have slept in the office on the pull out sofa he kept next to his desk. I refused to believed he'd been at the office the whole time.

"Okay, yes, I'd gone to Beth's." I turned back in my chair, not wanting to hear anything else as I passed back the girls bowls so they could eat their dessert. "Miranda. Listen to me. I had no choice."

"You had a choice. You just chose the easy option. You chose to get out of my company and run away. You chose to not face what could hurt and to run for comfort in another woman's arm. She probably told you that I'd forgive you. She told you that or that soon you and her could be together because, let's face it, I don't think even she would keep a man after he openly messed around behind her back. If she would it just shows the kind of woman she really is." I refused to look at him again. I fiddled with my spoon, pushing the cake around my bowl, covering the surface in a thin layer of mixed chocolate and melted ice cream.

"You're just going to insult her, aren't you?" I could imagine him shaking his head, as if I was supposed to approve of the woman.

"Well, I'm not going to praise her. I'm not impressed by her ability to catch married men." I bent my arm from the table, running my finger over my clothed collar bone. I was getting quite angry inside, but after being accused of needing anger management just days before I was not going to let it show. I stabbed the cake with my spoon a couple of times, mouth sized chunks suddenly began to fill my bowl. I carried one on the spoon to my mouth, trying to look as calm as possible. It's a shame that the spoon hit the table when I put my hand back down. It looked as if I purposely hit the table.

"You make it sound like 'catching' married men is something she does often." I rolled my eyes, chewing on the cake.

"This is very nice, girls." I whispered over the table to the two girls who had finished their cake. They both smiled, first at me and then at each other. I took another mouthful of cake, quickly chewed and swallowed before placing the bowl in front of the girls who grabbed their own spoons and worked on the rest of my dessert. "I'm just saying," I turned around on my chair, hooking one leg over the other, "that she's done it with you and that she's maybe done it before and what's stopping her doing it in the future?" I sarcastically smiled at him before getting to my feet. "Your dinner is in the oven." He was staring at the wall above my head. I took this as my queue to leave, smugly walking out of the room. I was fighting back and I was proud of myself.

**11:38pm**

After dropping the dirty makeup wipes in the bathroom bin, I slowly walked back into my bedroom. I was wearing black silk. I couldn't explain my good mood today, but I had a feeling Andrea was the cause of it all. The memory of those lips caused mine to curl upwards. That kiss. I still felt speechless.

The door knob turned sharply as Stephen walked in. I was now sat on the end of the bed taking out my left earring. I wasn't looking at him. I couldn't.

"Miranda," he whispered, "I'm sorry." My eyes, of their own accord, rolled. "I'm serious. I never meant to build this wall between us." After taking out my other earring, throwing them over to the top of my dresser, I turned to him. I had a questioning look in my eye.

"Is that supposed to make it all better? Is it supposed to take away the fact that you slept with another woman?" shaking my head, I whispered, "Because it didn't work." I stood, planning to walk passed him back to the bathroom but his hand was around my wrist before I could get away. I pulled away sharply; both out of disgust that he had touched me and that I had felt a sharp pain shoot up my arm at the sudden contact.

"Miranda." He looked as if he was desperate. I almost felt sorry for him, almost. His hands ran up my hips and he pulled my body closer as he looked up at me. My breath caught in my throat. How could he even dare to touch me after touching her? My hands lifted up away from him in disgust. It was the most typically girl move I've ever made but it was natural reaction. "Miranda, I love you." Don't ask me why I did it, I guess it was another natural reaction, but my hand moved from hovering silently in the air to moving swiftly and quickly towards his face. As my hand hit his face his hands let go of my hips to cup his cheek.

"You can sleep in the guest room from now on." I moved away from him and over to the dresser, getting a pair of pyjamas and throwing them at him. I also threw a black pair of work trousers and a white shirt. If he wanted a tie and jacket he would be sorely disappointed. He slowly got up from where he sat, shaking his head, and headed to the door. "Don't act as if you're the victim here." I spat before walking into the bathroom and slamming the door.

I heard him cursing me through the door. "Jesus fucking Christ, Miranda." I pressed my back against the door, refusing to breathe until I knew he was out of my room. When I finally heard the bedroom door click closed I let the breath I was holding go and sunk down the door. This was exhausting. I didn't want to be in this relationship anymore. Well, could you call this a relationship? It felt like I was fighting two wars. One against Stephen and one against myself; the thing that hurt the most is that I had a chance of winning in the war against Stephen but I could never ever win against myself.

Ten or twenty, maybe thirty, minutes later I picked myself off the floor and finally went to bed. I hadn't brushed my teeth, combed through my hair or set my alarm for the morning but I didn't care. I just didn't care anymore. I was fighting back but it didn't feel like I was at all. I felt equally as numb as I had the other evening. The darkness that was surrounding me was comfortable but at the same I didn't like it.

I felt lost and I didn't care about being found.


	10. Chapter 10

**09:23am**

Something buzzing jolted me awake. I turned my head, hair plastering my face, and noticed it was my cell phone humming against the wooden table sitting next to the bed. I quickly, and un-elegantly, wiped my hair from my face before stretching over to grab the offending object. I peered through narrowed eyes at the screen while turning onto my back and placing my forearm against my forehead. It was a text message from Andrea. She was asking why I wasn't at work and if I was okay. I averted my gaze to the time on the screen. It was late. I should have been in work a long while ago. I slumped my arm hard against the bed, hissing slightly as it jolted my wrist. I didn't want to get out of bed. I was too tired, mentally and physically.

About ten or twenty minutes later, I don't know exactly, my cell phone began vibrating between my fingers. I lifted it slowly so it was eye level. Again, it was from Andrea. A simple "Miranda?" was all that the message contained. I quickly wrote a short "I'm fine" and sent it as I began to drag myself out of my only sense of comfort. I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers scratching the bed sheets as I contemplated what my excuse would be. Andrea would not let me get on with my day without a damned good story.

I forced myself to get up and slowly got myself dressed. It was too late to go in the shower, I would scold myself for it later but right now I didn't care. Soon, I wore a white pencil skirt, Chanel, and a cream blouse, Prada, with black beads hanging loosely around my neck. I gave myself a once over in the mirror and decided that I didn't look my worst. After a soft and subtle application of make-up, I stepped into a pair of nude pumps and threw on a white trench coat and started for the door. As I walked past the guest room I stiffened. The door was wide open, I could easily see that Stephen had already gone to work, but I still felt the need to quicken my step to get away from the thought of my husband being so close to me. Since when had I been so disgusted by the thought of him? I remembered how he'd pulled my body to his last night and I almost retched. I stopped for a moment, half way down the stairs, my left hand finger tips touching the wall beside me in an attempt to steady myself as my right hand clasped around the banister.

After a moment of standing still, my eyes closed and pressed my left hand firmly against my chest as I breathed deeply in and out, I continued my way to work. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I heard laughter from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, heading towards the door. I pulled the door open sharply, noticing as I looked out the door that Roy's car was in fact parked outside but he was not present. My head turned slightly as I heard somebody getting closer and closer behind me. Roy's arm then lifted over my head as he leant against the door I held open.

"You took longer than normal to get dressed today, Miranda." He smiled, and it turned into a quiet chuckle as I- with no readable facial expression- reached into my pocket and placed the sunglasses found there silently onto my face. I stepped out the door, knowing Roy would be right behind me, and quickly closed the distance between myself and the car. When we were both finally on our way into Runway I got my phone out of my pocket. Of course, another text from Andrea. It read:

Don't lie to me.

I ignored it. I had nothing to say to that. She knew I wasn't fine and there was probably nothing I could say to make her see otherwise. As Roy pulled the car into the entrance of Runway, quickly running around the bonnet of the car to open my door, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and composed my expression. I was determined to have everyone, other than Andrea, too on edge to say a single word against me today. The first thing I planned to do when I entered my office was find a job for everybody who I simply would not be able to handle today, Nigel being the first. I did not need his very unique sense of humour causing arguments today. He was an adorable man but his sense of humour was only fit for a rather select few people.

**10:03am**

It must have been apparent in my expression that I was not in the best of moods. People were leaping out of my way as I sauntered through the halls of Runway, aiming straight for my office where I could isolate myself with work and coffee as my only companions. The red head Brit was suddenly glued to my side. She was apologising for my absence. Moments like these were when I realised how good I was at actually keeping a straight face. I was almost fighting a smile of pure amusement. She then started listed things I had to do, handing me a list of problems with the current issue before we turned the corner and she gripped the collar of my jacket and tugged it down my arms. My bag went flying onto her desk as I, and my list, went into my office.

The door practically came flying open again as I sat down. Andrea held two coffees in her hand and it was almost confusing to watch her fiddle with the bottom of the door as she attempted to kick it shut again. When she somehow succeeded without spilling the hot liquid completely down herself she hurried over to my desk, placed a cup in front of me and the other cup on the opposite side of the desk. Then, she hurried over to the other side of my office to grab a chair. When the chair was firmly sat opposite my desk, she plopped herself down and grabbed what I presumed was her coffee. She brought it to her lips and took a sip, sighing as she placed it back onto the table.

"Good morning, Andrea. Make yourself at home." I said bitterly as I pulled my chair closer to my desk.

"Where were you?" She crossed her legs and sighed back into her chair.

"I was late." I spoke dryly. She didn't deserve this but neither did I.

"Why were you late?" I rolled my eyes, my tongue moving to the inside of my cheek in annoyance.

"Must we do this?" I spat, picking up my coffee and liking the burn it gave against my palm and then the burn it gave to my tongue. All she did was nod, a comforting smile on her face. "I was at home." I spoke simply in between another sip of coffee. When her eyebrow rose I knew that I would have to go into this conversation honestly if I wanted to be left alone before 1 o'clock. I placed my coffee back onto the table. "Stephen came home last night." I ran my fingers over my lips before continuing. "He did nothing to hurt me, before you ask."

"Then what did he do?" I turned in my chair, hiding from her expression. I was ashamed of how I felt towards what had happened and surely she would call me stupid for it. Surely she would feel as I did, say something on how I was over-reacting and leave me with only 2 half empty coffee cups for company. I'd been thinking about it too much since I'd woken up and had started making irrational conclusions in my mind. I felt a soft pressure against the back of my shoulder as something help the back of the chair, and then I was spun around. Andrea was sitting on my desk in front of where I sat, her knees now brushing against mine. She removed her grip on the back of my chair, crossed her arms and shifted comfortably back further onto my desk. Remarkable girl. "Do you want to try that question again?"

I leaned forward, on the verge of blushing but managing not to when my rib cage and breasts quite obviously leant against her thighs as I grabbed my coffee. When I'd leaned back in my chair I took a long sip of the hot liquid and sighed. "I don't know how to tell you."

"Then go through the evening and tell me the events." I noted in the back of my mind that the front of her heeled foot was now rubbing deliciously against my calf muscle.

"Well," I handed my cup to her, not wanting to once again press my body against hers as her foot was doing wonderful things to my leg and causing painful goose bumps to erupt where her skin was dancing against mine. The blush that would have overcome my features would have been devastating. "He came home and I said a word or two to him, unfortunately it was in front of the children but there we go. I can't change that now." I sniffed. My neck tensed slightly as I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "Later on, he came into the bedroom trying to apologise. I don't know if I did the wrong thing but I didn't forgive him. He then grabbed my wrist and pulled my body closer to his." My breathing hitched. Why was this so difficult to tell? Andrea leaned down, capturing my fingers in hers and offered a warm smile.

"It's okay, Miranda." She squeezed my fingers gently. Why did such an action affect the speed of my heartbeats? "Go at your own pace. You don't have a deadline here." It was a weak attempt but it did draw a smile to my lips.

"He moved his hands up my hips and then I-" I didn't know how to tell her. I closed my eyes, ashamed. She would judge me. I could potentially lose her.

"Miranda, what is it?" She whispered.

"I, uh," –say it, Miranda, for God sake- "I struck him."

Andrea's gasp was audible. She hadn't been expecting that. "You punched him?"

Don't ask me why but I erupted in laughter. I don't know if it was for nerves on Andrea's opinion of me changing or the fact that Andrea was currently picturing me, as she put it, punching my husband. "No," my laughter had died down but the smile was still plastered on my face, "no, I did not punch my husband. I simply slapped him a little bit too hard." Now, Andrea had a smile on her face, slowly developing into a soft chuckle.

"Woah, Miranda." Humour and embarrassment had started to silently seep through my expression. "I told you to be brave but I was not expecting this."

"It wasn't brave." My smile had been wiped away. "I was stupid and it should never have happened."

"Come here." She pulled me to stand and then over to the sofa in the corner of the room. I sat daintily on the edge next to her, my hands in hers. "You were brave last night." I started shaking my head, rolling my eyes in disbelief that she could be so blind. "No, Miranda, listen to me." She shook my hands lightly. "You were brave last night. You were faced with a man that is deluded in my opinion and you stood up for yourself. You showed him that you're not going to be played with. You showed him that you're as strong at home as you are at work and I, for one, am proud of you." I didn't believe a word she said. How could she be proud of, well, me?

"You're lying." My voice cracked and my bottom lip began to shake.

She pulled me closer, wrapping her strong arms around me. I adored the feeling my chin in the small bend of her neck, the feeling of her fingers rubbing soothing circles in my shoulder blade. "I'm not lying. You're an amazing woman and I am so proud of you." And at that moment, I felt it. She was proud and she adored me. I was in the arms of someone who actually understood what I needed to hear. "You're wonderful, Miranda." It was a whisper but I heard it crystal clear. I couldn't explain how it happened, but within seconds my hands were cupping my assistants face and my lips were firmly pressed against hers. I craved her, right now more than I thought I could. I needed to feel her fingers in my hair. I needed her to persuade me I wasn't going crazy and that I was all of those things she said I was. I needed reassurance and those lips, those full and talented lips, seemed to be the only thing that could do the job.

I felt a burning in the back of my throat as sensations overtook me and a desire I had not felt for years eloped my senses. The only way to satisfy those senses being letting a small groan of ultimate pleasure out of my lips and into Andrea's, who captured the sound and passed her own back. My mind was spinning. I didn't care if the spinning never stopped. This was just something else. No words could ever describe the emotions and lust and utter love I was currently feeling for the young woman who was holding me and was shielding me from myself.

After a moment or so, Andrea broke apart. We were both breathless and panting and both our minds were spinning.

"I-I'm sorry." I stuttered. Pull yourself together, Miranda.

"No," She shook her head softly, "don't apologise for leaving me speechless." She smiled and pecked my lips lightly with hers. She shifted so that her arm was wrapped around my shoulder and that I was pulled into her body. My fingers began to trace the ripples of fabric on her stomach as Andrea kissed my hair. Was it normal that I felt so safe? I had completely forgotten where I was and I had completely forgotten that I should be caring about other things, but right now, this moment was all I had care for.

My eyes were beginning to drift closed. I was so in peace that it seemed normal to feel tired, but as the door flew open and Nigel and Emily both walked in I escaped from my dream and threw myself away from Andrea. Within seconds, which was all it took to make myself look completely insane, I was standing with my ankles crossed and my hands on my hips. Andrea was left in shock on the chair. Nigel and Emily both must have seen me throw my body away from my assistant and they both stood, mouths open, as their eyes averted to firstly me and then to Andrea and then back to me once more.

"I would prefer if you did not just stand there catching flies in your mouths and got on with whatever it is you originally were doing." I strutted back to my desk and perched in my chair, letting my hand go straight to the cup of coffee-now cold- to hand to Emily to get rid of. Emily, being keen to get out of such an awkward situation, sprung at the opportunity to leave as she practically snatched the cup from my hands and hurried into the outer office.

"I've, uh, brought these up from the art department. They need your opinion on the layout and such." He let the file thud in front me and turned stiffly to leave to the room.

"Andrea," I called, now completely back in work-mode, "you will speak to both Nigel and Emily about what just happened and tell me exactly what they say and exactly what they feel happened." She nodded, getting up to get her coffee cup and then leave the room. As she closed the door behind her, I dropped my pen and swivelled in my chair so I faced the window. I sighed.

"Woah" I whispered to nobody in particular. I should be feeling worried for the opinion Emily and Nigel were currently building on the situation but I was not. All I could think of was how easily Andrea could tear down my walls and make me feel as if I was floating. My fingers began to silently ghost were Andrea's own lips had been and with the thought of Andrea, I began to smile.

**HEY GAYS. It's been a longer while that I wanted and I'm sorry. Silly work ;) Anyway, I have lots and lots of plans for our girls. Reviews will make me work quicker for the next chapter. 3**


	11. Chapter 11

**10:34pm**

I sighed back in my chair, accepting that I no longer had the mind set to finish working. It had been a stressful day, nobody could deny that. First, I was late getting to work. Nigel and Emily walking in on an intimate moment between myself and my assistant, causing me to make myself look like a fool, just added to the lack of good nature rolling through my system. Andrea had come back, after I asked her to find out what they felt had happened between us, with news that Nigel has his suspicions and Emily was completely clueless.

"_What exactly did he say?" I licked a fingertip and turned the page to an article._

"_He said before I'd even said anything, 'what's happening between you and her, then?'" I raised an eyebrow, refusing to look her in the eye. This was so humiliating. I had never had to have a discussion even vaguely similar to this one and especially with a female assistant. _

"_And you said?" I took off my glasses, placing them on my desk in front of me and rubbing my temple with my fingers._

"_I said that nothing was happening, but Nigel being Nigel started joking before winking at me and promising not to tell anybody. I don't think he actually expects anything. He might just be trying to pull my leg, you know how he is." I did know how he was. He wasn't one to get an opportunity like that and throw it away. Andrea would certainly get it in the neck every day. I, on the other hand, would not allow such jokes and jibes to be addressed to me. If even one happened to come my way I would bite back so hard it would leave a mark for days. _

"_And Emily?" I crossed my legs. Why was I suddenly the fidgety one? _

"_Emily had no clue." She said smiling. "I asked her, as if I myself was shocked on your reaction when they walked in. She basically said she was used to you not acting normally and went on with her work. When I tried to dig deeper she said she wasn't interested in what you had to say to upset me and asked me to please get rid of myself." I chuckled. I had always liked Emily, contrary to popular belief. _

"_Okay," I nodded softly, "That's all." And before she had a chance to get up from her chair, I had turned in mine and already began mentally hitting myself for letting this happen. When I heard the door close behind her as she left I let my head roll back, hitting the leather chair in defeat. Why had I let this happen?_

Now, as I sat thinking about going home, I felt overcome with a horrible and sickening sense of guilt. I had kissed Andrea and I had kissed her more than once. I was cheating on my husband. Yes, he had cheated on me but it was no excuse. I was ruining my marriage as bad as he was. I was now, too, a bad-guy.

But then I thought about Stephen. Did he feel the way I feel about Andrea when he thought about that Beth woman? What if he had slowly become aware of Beth's presence, just like I had with Andrea, and had not been able to resist stealing a kiss here and there? What if I was just like him? He would be home when I got there; he always got home before me. I shuddered slightly as I thought about how he'd touched my body with hands that had touched another woman. If he knew about Andrea and I would he shudder? Would she feel uncomfortable knowing that hours ago my lips had been pressed against another woman's?

Oh god, I was having an affair with a woman. It wasn't like I was kissing another man, this was a woman. Why had I not even realised? I had kissed a woman that was not my mother or children. I had shared passion, burning passion with another woman. I wasn't a lesbian. I couldn't be. Men in crisp suits caught my gaze and mind and fantasies too often for me to even consider being a lesbian. I felt so confused.

I pulled a face at my own mind. I never labelled people with names signifying sexuality so why was I suddenly doing it to myself? I didn't think of anybody as gay, they were human. Why would the chance of me being a lesbian or bisexual make me anything less than human? But that didn't change the fact that I was already married. It didn't change the fact that I should be staying faithful, even when my husband was not.

Rolling my eyes, a new and re-born sense of self-loathing scratching through my veins, I pushed my chair away from my desk and stood up. I adjusted my skirt and blouse before walking to the outer office.

"Have Roy outside in 5 minutes." I sniffed, not making eye contact with either Emily or Andrea. "Coat. Bag."

I stepped back into my office and tidied up my desk before Andrea came inside with my coat and bag. She proceeded to help me put my coat on and turn me around to face her. What was she doing? Her hands brushed over my shoulders, flattening the fabric with her fingers before straightening my collar and looking me in the eye. "Text me if you get upset, okay?" I averted my eyes sheepishly. I couldn't do that. If I did that she'd receive about five texts within the next couple of minutes. "I'm serious, Miranda. If anything is said to hurt you just text me and I'll listen or come over. Whatever you need."

I pressed my tongue on my two front teeth and nodded, looking down at the floor. I couldn't let her get any closer to me than she already was. This was dangerous. I didn't want to be the bad guy. "That's all." I whispered, closing my eyes. Tears were threatening to make themselves known. I already felt as if I'd lost her and I hated it. I knew why I was turning her away, why I was making her leave but at the same time I felt utterly clueless. I was making it harder on myself but it would be worth it, wouldn't it?

**11:00pm**

As I closed the door I heard the grandfather clock in the lounge hit 11. I sighed, tired. I was so relieved that the book would not be delivered tonight due to some incident in the art department that so far had managed to be kept a secret but would no doubt become apparent when I arrived in the office tomorrow morning and, believe me, heads would roll, but right now I was content in just sitting down with a piece of paper and a pencil and letting my mind wander.

Around an hour later, I stopped drawing and took a sip of orange juice- not so cold anymore as it had been sitting there for a while. The room around me was lit warmly by a single lamp a couple of feet away from me and it gave everything in the room a wonderful orange outline. Everything looked like something out of a romantic scene in a movie. When I placed the orange juice back onto the coffee table next to me I looked down at what I had drawn. A woman. You couldn't tell much about her as I had only roughly drawn the outline of her face and features but you could easily tell she wasn't passed the age of 30. She had big round eyes, that at the minute were a black but planned to be a rich chocolate. Her hair had a natural wave in, something that heat or products could ever achieve. The girls' lips were full, swollen and parted. Other than that, she was your average woman. I flipped the book closed and flung it next to me on the sofa. I then started on my way to bed, yawning the whole time, as I went up the stairs.

I slouched out of my clothes, leaving them untidily on the floor. I would surely ask myself what I was thinking when I awoke but right now my bed felt too warm to care.

Suddenly, thoughts began to drift and that kiss seemed to be my only interest. I remembered how it had felt, her lips against mine; how having all of my senses surrounded by Andrea had made me feel like I was flying and falling at the same time. It was unnerving how magical one kiss could seem and how addicting and poisonous it could be also.

I turned on my back, sighing as the cushion below my head covered my ears. My heart was pumping loud as I thought about her hands in mine, her fingers drawing patterns on my back, her finger nails digging into my hips, her lips on my stomach, her finger tips brushing down my rib cage, her teeth sinking into the inside of my thigh. The images of her in my mind got more detailed. I imagined her wrapped in a crisp white sheet, silk of course, and the beautiful contrast her chocolate curls would be next to it. I imagined her in a black office suit, Chanel, and platform Louboutins. I imagined her standing provocatively over me with a smirk playing on her rouge lips. I imagined her lying on a black sofa, chest heaving as I dragged my nails along her back. My mind was taking it too far, but I revelling in the warmth it gave me in the middle of my stomach.

I imagined her rolling black stocking down her long legs, not taking her eyes from me while she did so. I could see her leaning up against wet tiles of a bathroom, water leaving nothing to hide through the white t-shirt now clinging desperately to her figure. I could feel my own skin heating up, a blush developing around my neck as the desire and lust inside me for the younger woman became horribly apparent. I hadn't noticed that my fingertips had moved to sit under the waistband of my silk bed shorts.

After a couple more minutes, deep in thought or fantasy – it could have been either – I heard what could not be mistaken as my cell phone receiving a text message. I quickly rolled over to my front, my hands coming quickly away from my rib cage and underneath my shorts to go through the clothes looking for the God damn useless piece of technology. It was in my skirt pocket. I unlocked it, the light blinding me and causing my eyes to squeeze shut, as I read the short message of "Sleep well xoxox" from Andrea. I sighed. When would I get away from the kindness of this girl? Not that I didn't want to but I'd never felt so consumed by romance and affection by anybody. Nobody that I'd ever been with was so keen to make me feel happy on a non-professional level and it was refreshing but also so very frightening.

I didn't reply, mostly because I had no idea of what to say, but also out of nerves that I would say something that I shouldn't. After all, I'd built myself up into quite a state that needed to be taken care of.

I whipped the blanket covering my body from the bed, pulling my legs over the side of the bed and turning on the small bed side light so that I could see properly. After my eyes had adjusted properly and the string of a light too bright had gone, I got to my feet and went to the bathroom. The hum of air conditioning was sobering as I ran some cold water into my hands and flung it at my face. Some droplets of the cool liquid rolled down my shoulders and down the back of my neck. I felt so flustered. I couldn't remember ever feeling so un-like Miranda Priestly. Ever. Getting this hot and bothered over a vision in my mind was something that had never happened.

I slowly turned the tap so the cold water was no longer running. I grabbed one of the towels that was hanging on the back of the bathroom doors and wiped my face. I sighed into the material as it scratched the sensitive areas of my face. When my face was dry, I simply dropped the towel on the floor and wandered back to bed, praying that Andrea would not flood my mind in sleep like she was doing constantly while awake and that I wouldn't be back and forth to the bathroom all evening - after all, that way my mind was working right now, it could happen.

**WAHHHH hey you. Sorry that my writing is actually taking foreverrrrrrrrrr right now. Having some work problems as everybody is leaving and I have to do everybodies job, can you tell how much I love that? BUT ANYWAY. Review and I will bake you a personalised cup cake. No, I'm not bribing you. **


	12. Chapter 12

**10:23pm**

It had been 2 weeks since I'd spoken to Andrea about anything. I was doing a horribly good job of avoiding the topic of my happiness and wellbeing and, somehow, it was effecting me. I'd never realised until I'd taken it away from myself how much speaking to her actually did help. I'd been forced to become creative with excuses to avoid talking to her. I began with just insisting I was okay, but naturally, my mood in work was in shambles and she just continued to stop me in the corridors every now and then to ask how I was holding up. My excuses went from "I'm fine" to "Absolutely great. Will you finish your job now or do I have to resort to using the word please?" Let's just say, eventually, it sunk in that I didn't want to be asked.

The feeling of utter lust towards the girl hadn't vanished as I'd hoped it would. In fact, it was just getting stronger and more addicting. It didn't matter if I was alone or in a crowd, Andrea was just haunting me. There were moments where I had to actually excuse myself from a room so I just stand still and breathe. This had happened twice in the past 3 days. The first time was my own dirty mind taking advantage of my feelings. She had bent over in front of me to pick up a pen someone had left on the floor. Forgive me for looking at the curve of back for maybe a moment longer than I should have. The second time was just painfully erotic. She didn't even realise. One of her buttons had come undone and in such a teasing area. It was just under her breasts. As she bent over writing, I standing right behind her flicking through pages and pages of black and white photographs of models, I had a perfect angle to see the deep green lace bra under her shirt. I'd stopped flicking through the photos, my eyes simply transfixed on the difference of her skin colour and the harsh fabric. I wanted, in that very moment, to just rip the horrendous shirt open and kiss that patch of skin, but of course, I couldn't. That was when I excused myself and just stood in the bathroom, breathing, for around 10 minutes.

That wasn't it, I'd also begun dreaming. They started off small. I'd share a kiss or two with my assistant and that would be that, I'd wake up and carry on my day normally. But suddenly they'd got intense. The most recent one had resulted in Andrea firmly pressed against my office desk as I had my way with her body. The worse thing was that I was enjoying going home, finishing the book and just going straight to sleep. I hadn't been able to say that I wanted to go home and just sleep on a daily basis since I was fifteen. It was both refreshing to feel addicted to something but also, it was driving me insane.

I was on the verge of leaving the office, my coat was in hand. It had been a long day of too many complications on little details concerning the magazine and I felt that I deserve a large hot chocolate with whipped cream. As I walked out of my office I notice Andrea's back leaving in the direction of the elevator. I tapped Emily's desk, my eyes still glued to Andrea, getting Emily's attention.

"Where is she going?" I tilted my head slightly, watching Andrea enter the elevator and disappear. Only then did I rip my eyes away and begin acting like a human being.

"Her boyfriend called. She's going home." She announced in a droned voice. She obviously didn't care, waving her hand in the air before typing something quickly into a document on her screen. I rolled my eyes. Emily could have such an attitude when she wanted one. She had the most stereotypical teenager life style of anybody I'd ever met. But at the mention of Andrea's boyfriend, my mood had deteriorated quite drastically. I'd never even thought about the situation we'd put ourselves in through her point of view. All I knew of the man was that he was a cook; good or bad, I had no idea. I quickly straightened my appearance and began to walk in the direction Andrea had just disappeared to. As the glass door swung closed behind me Emily opened it again. "I'll be bringing the book tonight." My eyes naturally rolled. I hated shouting so once again ignored what the girl had said.

I prodded the button for the elevator, annoyance evident in my expression. I didn't understand how I could possible just forget that, obviously, I was not the only one interested romantically in Andrea. She was in a relationship, a long term relationship from what I'd heard, and I was possibly ruining it. Flinging my jacket over my left shoulder, I got into the elevator and when the doors closed I simply sighed, releasing some of the building pressure inside my mind.

**11:32am**

My eyes moved upwards as the outer door of the office came flying open. Andrea was slightly late, and by slightly I mean dangerously late. I ignored it, deciding to confront her on why later. For now, I'd just leave her in dread. I heard Emily whisper shouting over the room, but couldn't decide on what she was saying. It could have been something about why she was late and I heard my name once or twice but no, other than myself, I had no idea what they were talking about.

Time went by rather slowly. I had planned to leave at around twelve o'clock to have lunch with Irv to discuss up-coming events concerning myself and the magazine and the time was just dragging past. After a while of just staring blankly at the pieces of paper on my desk, I sighed, pushing away from the table before flouncing into the outer office.

"I'm thrilled you could join us, Andrea." I made eye contact, lasting less than a second, before pursing my lips and turning to Emily. "Call Irv and have him waiting in the car in twenty minutes. Get Donatella to confirm that Julian will be at the next run through and then call my girls and tell them they can order before I get home. That's all." I went back into my office, completely ignoring Andrea as I went. It had felt like years since I'd seen her and even longer since I'd spoken to her. I shook the feeling away, it wasn't welcome anymore. I quickly began putting everything tidily back where it came from, other than the papers which remained scattered over my desk so that I could get back to work on them when I returned. When everything was how I wished for it to be, I continued out to the outer office. "Irv?"

Emily nodded. "Is heading to the car as we speak." Andrea passed me my coat and bag. She was the one not to make eye contact today. That was funny; it was usually me avoiding her gaze. I nodded to her, a silent thank you but she was already turned around and sat back at her desk. This wasn't funny. It was odd. I couldn't do anything about it now so I, once again, threw my coat over my shoulder and headed for the elevator.

**3:04pm**

The meal between Irv and I had been productive. We'd confirmed three appearances from myself to three events and organised a suitable date for next year's New York Runway fashion week, so all in all, we got a lot done. I had e-mailed the dates to both Emily and Andrea and trusted they would be instantly added to the Runway calendar. Irv and I sat in the back of the car in silence. There was only so much talking I could do with this man and the limit had been passed a long while ago. I was actually craving to go back to work and get away from this man's company. My foot was tapping desperately against the door as we pulled up to the Elias-Clarke building. I stepped out almost immediately as Roy opened the door, bag in one hand mobile phone in the other.

I sipped calmly on my coffee, back in my office at last. I'd sorted out everything and basically had the rest of the day open for if anybody needed me. Contrary to popular belief, I did have those rare periods in work where I had nothing to do and it was everybody else being run off their feet. I saw through the open door Andrea walking back into the office. God, she looked awful. She looked tired and slightly pale yet red all in once.

"Andrea" I called out to the office. Her head lifted, eyes coming in contact with mine. She looked anxious; her eyes were full of dread. Why? She nodded, dropping what she held onto her desk before coming into my office and standing just inside the door. I breathed through my nose. "Close the door." I picked up a pen and put it back in the pen pot by my computer screen while she did this before resting my face in-between my hands. "Where were you?" My voice came out slightly broken. Oh, well done Miranda.

"Uh," she looked to my left before to the floor. "I'm sorry I was late, Miranda." My tongue moved to my front teeth as I tilted my head slightly to look at her. What was wrong? I didn't want to pry into her emotions but I felt I had to. I had to help her. I went to get up from my chair. "Don't." She hissed, turning on her heels, opening the door then slamming it as she left. I sat back down in my chair, breathing in and holding it there. I welcomed the pressure in my lungs as the oxygen became too much to handle. I exhaled deeply through my nose. My fingers began tracing the edges of my lips as I questioned how I would handle what had just happened.

I finally dragged myself to my feet, stopped thinking that she didn't trust me like I trusted her and went to the outer office. Emily was extremely awkward when I opened the door, obviously changing her mind about saying something as her eyes widened and she looked at her computer screen. I pursed my lips, my natural walls building themselves around me.

I turned to the brunette. "Andrea, you will bring the book tonight."

"But Miranda," Emily practically shouted. I spun around, a look that could have killed on my face. The words she was about to say completely vanished.

"Yes, Emily? You were saying?" My hand rested on my hip as the red head searched desperately for a way out of this situation.

"N-nothing. No, it's fine. Never mind." She went back to her screen, lowering her head so that I could no longer see her. Once again, I turned to Andrea.

"Is that okay with you, Andrea? No prior appointment? I would hate to stop you from doing your job." I spat, more annoyed with the fact she wasn't looking me in the eye than the fact Emily has just shouted across the room. I got a small nod from her. That was enough for me.

**11:23pm**

It was a long while too late when I heard the lock turn and Andrea come through the front door. I called her name, noticing how the footsteps stopped as she heard my voice, before turning and walking ever so slowly towards where I was. She delicately pushed the door open and peeped around. What had made her so fragile in so little time?

"Yes, Miranda?" She hadn't looked at me, it was too hard for her. I needed to know why.

"Sit down." She turned her head away. "Andrea, we need to talk, obviously." She nodded, understanding and closed the door silently behind her. She sat across the room; I guess that was where she felt comfortable. I didn't want to pull her any closer to discomfort than I had to. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" she answered almost immediately.

I shook my head. "Andrea," I leant forward in my chair, my elbows rested on my knees, "You've got to let me in." She clenched her fist, bringing it to her mouth, pressing her shaking lips against her knuckles. Her eyes were rimmed with unshed tears. She was in so much pain and here I sat, unaware of everything going on inside her head. I felt helpless, but she would be feeling worse. "Andrea. I can't stand seeing you this upset." She breathed in, her breathe audibly shaking.

"Nate and I broke up last night." I almost didn't hear her say it- she was so quiet. She sighed back into the chair, tears now streaking her face. My heart broke for her. She looked like a child, so small and fragile that even a hug could make her erupt into painful sobs.

"Broke up?" She nodded. "Tell me what happened."

One last shaky sob left her lips, and she begun. "I had no idea I was being so obvious about it, anyway. I got a call mid-afternoon yesterday that he wanted to talk to me at home. I told him I'd be back as soon as I could to see him, but I forgot. I had so much to make sure happened and that they were a success that I completely forgot. I was so stupid. Then, he called me later to ask where I was. He practically demanded I get back home because it was urgent, so, Emily agreed to take the book for you as long as it wouldn't happen again. I got home and Nate had been drinking, naturally. He'd been waiting for practically 10 hours. He-" She chocked on her words. I couldn't help it anymore. It was either the maternal part of me or the part of me that just simply adored this young girl that made me get to my feet and cross the room, holding her in my arms as she began to sob into the crook of my neck.

"It's okay, you can tell me in your own time." I began running my fingers through the ends of her hair.

"I can't" her knuckles were almost white as she clung on desperately to my shirt, pulling my closer to her as she cried. "I just can't. No. I can't. You'd… I can't."

I pulled her away to look her in the eyes. I didn't want her to be afraid of telling me anything, even if I was her boss. "Andrea, whatever you say right now will not turn me away from you. You can't keep it bottled up inside." She began to nod. "Don't you dare say that you can and that you can avoid what you were about to tell me. Andrea, please." Her eyes widened. I'd said please. Why was this so shocking?

She nodded, finally seeing how much I cared. Well, hopefully. Her fingers moved to hold mine, her thumb moving over my knuckle. Her eyes looked scared, petrified. I wanted nothing more than to make this easier for her. "Okay, but you have to pr—" her voice cracked. I squeezed her fingers between mine gently. "You have to promise that you'll at least try to not think anything bad of me." I nodded a silent promise. "He said that he was sick of watching me obviously love somebody else." Her eyes closed, a sigh escaping between her lips. Was this other person me? I didn't want to ask into it, make myself appear big headed. I cared about Andrea's opinion for me and not just slightly. I cared very deeply.

"What did he say exactly?" I moved my elbow so it was resting on the back of the chair, giving my fingers easy access to the side of her face as I traced along her features. I would do anything to show her I cared.

"He said that he saw how my expression changed when I got messages and how I'd drop anything for them but nothing for him and he was shouting and he said that is was pathetic and he was sorry that I loved somebody else because he could make me happier than them and oh my God, Miranda, I don't know what to do." Her body began shaking, sobs raking through her system. This was horrible but at the same time, I wouldn't have chosen to be anywhere else. I was needed here.

I pulled her closer, once again, wrapping one of her shaking arms around my frame. "Are you staying at your apartment?" She sniffed.

"I packed my bags this morning; as soon as I can I'm going to Nigel's." Well, now I saw why she'd been late this morning. I nodded; satisfied that she would be safe. Nigel would take good care of her and, when I didn't have the chance, make sure that Andrea was doing okay. He was, just like me, the type of person to sit somebody they cared about down and discuss with them what was wrong and why they were not happy. I had great trust in Nigel.

"You're going tonight, yes?" I pressed my lips into her hair, silently praying that she would not have to spend another night in the same area as this Nate. She nodded slowly. A sigh escaped my lips. I hadn't realised how tense I was until some of the tension vanished, the sigh working even the slightest wonders. She wouldn't have to see him again after tonight. She could begin rebuilding up the happiness that she'd lost over the past forty eight hours.

I pulled her up to look into my eyes. "Andrea, I'm only going to say this once. You're a smart girl; you won't need to hear it again after this. Do what you have to do to be happy. If your happiness lies in the heart of this other person then pursue that happiness. If you don't believe that will make you happy then look for something else. Your own heart is what is important, Andrea. Don't change who you are for anybody. It won't be worth it in the end." Her smile began to show but not before her bottom lip began to tremble and she began shaking her head from side to side.

"I don't think you understand, Miranda." She quickly wiped a tear away from her eye.

"Then help me to." I once again held her hand.

"Miranda, that person," she looked down at our hands, seeming to be considering something, "that person was you."

"Person?" I knew what she had meant. I just couldn't believe it.

"Nate told me that I loved you. He told me he saw it every day. He told me I loved you and then gave me three days to get my stuff together and find somewhere to stay." I'd expected it yes, but it didn't make me any less shocked when it actually came into the open. I looked into her eyes, looking for a hint that she was lying. She was being honest. I saw the most brutal honesty in her eyes. It both frightened me and excited me. I didn't know what to say. I had a husband. I didn't care. I wanted to sweep her upstairs and show her what real love was. I had a husband. Miranda, you can't do that. You have a husband. It was possible that she loved me. I would love her. I had a husband. "Miranda, please. Talk to me." I'd been silent for a while, obviously. My vision had gone blurry and slowly everything came back into focus as she said my name.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drift off there." I cleared my throat, ready to tell her it didn't make a difference about if Nate was right or not, but I couldn't bring myself to. Of course it made a difference. I'd basically told her to go after this mystery person, who ended up being me.

"You're mad at me." She barely whispered it. Her fingers withdrew from mine. I could see her total hopelessness suddenly in how she held herself. I couldn't, even if I wanted to, just admit that I wanted her as much as Nate thought she wanted me. I couldn't.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not mad at you. I'm just surprised. I can't say I saw this coming." A sad smile crossed the young girls' features. I moved, silently, some of the hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. "I think you know what I'm going to ask you. Like I said, you're a smart girl."

The smile vanished from her lips. She knew exactly what I was going to ask, I could tell. "You're gonna ask if he was right?" I nodded, resting my chin in one of my hands as my other hands fingers began tracing her knee. "I uh," she brushed some hair from her neck, "I guess he was sort of right. Oh God, Miranda. I don't know. I'm just so confused about everything right now."

I couldn't help but smile. "Not that I'm intrigued but do you like me in that way at all?" Her eyes red, her cheeks puffy and her hair slightly messy but I did not miss that cheeky smile that suddenly appeared on her face.

"Miranda, gay men and straight woman all like you in that way. You have to have no sexuality at all to not like you in that way." She giggled and right in that moment, it was the most beautiful thing I had heard in years. That sound alone made me completely overlook that she had blatantly just confessed her attraction to me. I raised an eyebrow, the smile still plastered on my face, causing Andrea to laugh. She was so beautiful. "Hmm, Miranda." She hummed.

"Andrea." I whispered in response. "Have Roy take you to Nigel's and drop you there. I'll get Nigel to go to your apartment and pick up your bags." I got to my feet, getting my mobile phone out of my pocket and quickly began a message to Nigel.

"Miranda, I can do it myself." She went to get off the chair, following me as I stood up. She wrapped her hand daintily around my elbow, pulling me to face her. This didn't faze me or my decision.

I shook my head, continuing the message I had already started. "I'm not having you anywhere near that man after knowing how he's hurt you." Andrea seemed to accept this, with drawing her hand and nodding lightly. I quickly sent the message to Nigel, pushing the phone silently back into my pocket. "I don't expect you in work tomorrow. I'll give you tomorrow to freshen up, do whatever you have to do, as long as you come back in two days with the usual smile on your face I will have nothing to complain about." Don't ask me why, but I naturally went to straighten her shirt. I straightened her collar, sneaking a devilish look at her collar bones, before doing up one of the buttons and smoothing down the ruffles on her shoulders.

"Thank you, Miranda." She smiled weakly.

I chuckled. "For what? Straightening your shirt?" Winking, I then sauntered away. "The car will be outside in five minutes. I hope to see you in work on Thursday." As I left the room, I wasn't sure whether I did or did not hear Andrea whistle. A smile, once again, plastered my face. I continued up the stairs. The one thought circling my mind was that Andrea trusted me. She trusted me. But, although she had told me what had happened I still felt that there was something she wasn't telling me. I felt that Andrea's sadness went deeper than what Nate had said to her. But obviously, she did trust me. I was being given the chance to take care of her how she had taken care of me, and I would not waste this opportunity to show her how I really did care.

**Hello Pretty People :3 How is everybody? Fine and happy I hope. Again, I'm sorry this toke 8 years to update but, finally, we have normal staff and my birthday celebrations are over so I can concentrate on this story :D As always, do review. More reviews means more motivation on my part. I will also bake you a cake okay bye. **


	13. Chapter 13

**9:02am**

_So, I think you deserve a huge thank you and a hug, Miranda, for how well you treated me last night. You were my shoulder to cry on when I was sure I didn't need one. Thank you- Andrea. Xxx_

I exited the message, a huge smile playing on my face. I'd done the right thing, finally. Andrea was safe in Nigel's apartment for the time being and she was taking the day off to, as Nigel had so bluntly put it, do "fuck all" all day. His words had made me wince. I was not one for foul language but Andrea would be relaxing and that was all I wanted. I wanted her to concentrate on being okay.

The message had lightened my mood. I had been in a foul mood all morning. I'd been demanding things all morning, things I wouldn't usually demand. I'd demanded lemonade instead of water or coffee, which had left Emily speechless as the coffee touched the table and I simply picked it up and dropped it in the bin my by desk. I'd also asked for windows to be opened. The look on Emily's face had been wonderful, her eyebrow lifted and her neck tilted as she more than likely wondered if I'd been driven around the bend. Overthinking everything was making me hot and stuffy. I needed fresh air, which was difficult to get in the middle of New York. Nigel had offered to find me a fan, which I'd cut down with a witty comment and a "that's all."

Now, I sat in my office, a wonderful breeze hitting my back, writing the editors letter. The current issue was almost complete, much to everyone's delight, and all that was left was a couple of very small details, my letter being one of them. Once I'd finished, I pinned it inside the book, happy for it to be sent down to the art department for them to work on making it into the real thing. "Emily" I called as I closed the pages and placed it on the front of my desk. As she walked in, she saw the book almost beaming up at her, picked it up, pressed it to her chest while wrapping her arms around it and left, heading for the glass door on the right side of the office. As I heard the door shut, I sighed. Everything was so quiet. Slowly, I closed my eyes. I could imagine I was in the countryside like this, the cool waves of the air outside making my hair fall against my cheek in a rhythm that matched the wind. Again, I sighed, my lips began to curve upwards as an almost comical phone could be heard somewhere in the office, reminding me that I was actually in a skyscraper in New York City.

Hearing the door swing lightly on its hinges, my eyes opened once more. Checking the time, I got to my feet and wandered out to the outer office. Emily was sat back at her desk on the phone.

"I'll tell her you called." Placing the phone back in its holder, she turned to me.

On a whim, not even sure if I would go through with my plan, I almost whispered. "Cancel any appointments from twelve until two. Call Roy and tell him to meet me outside at eleven forty five. Confirm a meeting with everyone for the next issue. I want ideas, real ideas, not anything like we had in the last meeting. Get a searing hot coffee for half past eleven on my desk. Have Nigel get an hour to himself at four so we can discuss photo shoot, you're expected to be present. I need 10 scarves from Calvin Klein and a take-out menu from that restaurant I went to with Stephen a month ago." I'd already begun walking towards the door; she was writing what I had just said down and was in the middle of a sentence. As I got to the door, I turned and saw Emily already dialling a number. With my backside I pushed the door gently open to find Nigel.

As I walked calmly down the halls, chin slightly tilted upwards, I didn't fail in noticing how everybody flitted away from my vision. I caught from the corner of my eye how women and men would go to leave the room they were in, would see me and suddenly change their mind. The intimidation I held increased my ego every single day.

Finally, the man himself caught my eye through a glass door to one of the art rooms. I knocked the door with the back of my index finger. Nigel looked up from his work and gave me a crooked smile as he noticed it was me. "The doors open." He announced, waving me inside. I pressed my tongue to my front teeth as I pushed the door handle around and stepped inside. "Miranda." He greeted, nodding his head gently as he put his pen in his mouth and pushed away from the table. "What can I help you with?"

_Pull it together, Miranda. _I swallowed then cleared my throat before removing my glasses from my face and putting them safely into my pocket. "Nigel," once again, I found myself clearing my throat, "On my first divorce you led me to believe that I could ask anything of you. Do you still stand by that?" I was slowly, and rather uneasily, moving around the room looking at the pictures and layouts plastered over the walls. Nigel's office was genuinely beautiful.

He nodded. "What do you need, chief?"

_Just ask him. It's not that difficult. _I sighed, closing my eyes for a second. "I need the key to your apartment." I stayed facing away from him. I didn't want to see his reaction.

"Okay." He drew the word out. I could hear next to every thought going through his mind. "Can I ask why?" Of course, he wanted an explanation. I gradually turned my body around so I was facing him. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at me, more than likely confused by my sudden interest of his privacy.

"Actually," I muttered, "I was wondering if you'd let me check up on Andrea." This was an odd feeling, I felt like a child asking a parent for permission to stay out late. The longer the silence lasted the longer it took for me to realise I was in fact biting my lip. His stare was starting to get un-nerving. "Nigel." I spoke firmly. I refused to wait for an answer any longer.

"Um," He suddenly flinched, crumpling some of the papers her was working on. He started looking around the room, his head flicking from one direction to another. Not really knowing what to do with myself as he moved papers and looked in draws, I began playing with my nails. I leaned gently against the table behind me, crossing my arms. Finally, he motioned that he was going to throw something to me and his keys came flying through the air. I caught them with my right hand, looking at him with wide eyes. He was allowing me to see her. I nodded, thanking him as I went to leave the room. "Oh, Miranda." He called. I opened the door again, popping my head around the door. "Try not to make too much noise. I have neighbours." I must have turned bright red, I could feel the heat radiating off of my skin. I'd completely forgotten Nigel had seen Andrea and I _sort of _embracing. I was speechless, which was impressive. Nigel began to chuckle, sending a wink in my direction before going back to his work.

**12:05pm**

I had left Roy waiting outside. He had a coffee and a newspaper with him, knowing I would be slightly longer than ten minutes as I had made two hours free in my schedule. I'd had to ask where apartment 403 was as I'd entered the building. I didn't really understand how apartment buildings work as I had always lived in a building on its own and didn't require an elevator to get to my home. Nigel's apartment was on the 18th floor and required me to spend the entire elevator ride with a woman and her child. There she stood, entirely too close to me, as her eight or nine year old boy threw a toy car around the floor space. I had to internally tell myself to be calm as I was not the boss in this building and asking this woman to control her child would not be taken lightly. Instead, I simply edged away from the woman slowly until finally I arrived at the 18th floor and practically jumped out of the doors as they opened.

The hall way was actually very lovely. The carpet was a cool white, complimenting the gold skirting board and coal black doors. Each door had a magnificent golden number in a gothic font -Verdana was the name, I believe- glued to the front. The hallway was beautiful. If the apartments were anything to compare I would be very impressed.

Apartment 403 was the very first door as I turned a corner. I retrieved the key from my pocket, not allowing myself to get nervous before un-hesitantly pushing the key in the whole and turning it. I heard the door click and I began holding my breath. Now was not the time to re-think this. The door was unlocked. Andrea had more than likely heard the click. Just push the door open and go inside. _It's not as difficult as you're making it out to be, Miranda._ Before the time lapse between the click and me actually entering the apartment became awkward, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. As quickly as I'd stepped inside I had the door closed once more, my palm pressed against it as I contemplated moving. My eyes were screwed shut as I tried to hear any movement in the apartment. I could hear a TV. Andrea was watching the news apparently. Then, I heard a toilet flush and a door, coming from the same direction as the flushing toilet, click and creak open.

"Nigel?" I heard her call. "Nigel, why are you here so early?" Her feet were padding closer and closer. _Miranda, remove yourself now from the door. Miranda, act like a normal human being. Miranda, just breathe. _"Nigel?" Her voice suddenly became ten times louder but she hadn't raised her voice. By now, I'd gathered that she was probably right behind me or very close to being right behind me. I chose now to push myself from the door and turn around, pulling my gloves off casually. Then she appeared. Oh God. "Nig—Miranda?" My breathing hitched as I took in what she was- or what she was not- wearing.

There she stood in a pale blue t-shirt, which I can note was far too big for her, which was obviously based around some television show. That wasn't the problem though. She had seemed to have forgotten to put on any trousers on. I could easily see the black lady boxers she was wearing- not that I was staring, but they had a cheeky little fairy on the front of them. I swallowed, trying to not let a blush overtake my features. This was my assistant for goodness sake. I nodded, not trusting words at this moment in time.

"What are you doing here?" I saw her neck redden. At least I wasn't the only one uncomfortable in this situation.

Shrugging, I muttered, looking down at my gloves, "I just wanted some time with you." Shoving my gloves un-elegantly into my pockets, I then added "I hope you don't mind."

"No, Miranda, I don't mind. In fact I'm thrilled you're here. I was getting lonely. I was just shocked to see you here when you're, uh, supposed to be at work and probably sorting out the editors letter." She pressed her hands to her hips. I could feel the corner of my lip beginning to tilt upwards. This girl was something.

"I've finished the letter. I needed a break and you were a better option than lunch with Irv." A smirk appeared on my face as Andrea smiled. I took my coat off, throwing it in her direction before confidently walking passed her. "I'll get some coffee." I moved into the kitchen. The apartment was actually beautiful. The design was new, sleek and fresh. All tables were either black marble or glass. The walls remained white and yes, there were golden accessories scattered around the room. When I had finished getting two mugs of coffee done I carried them back through the hall, looking for Andrea. I found her, now wearing a small pair of bed shorts, sitting on a white leather cough perched in front of the television. She had her legs crossed and was flicking through channels. Was it wrong that I was suddenly transfixed by this side of Andrea? I had never seen this. She was wearing bed clothes in the middle of the day; her hair was slightly messy as it hung in a braid at the back of her head; she was biting her nail lightly as she concentrated on what to watch; she was so casual and so very her. It was beautiful.

After a while of simply watching her I stepped into the room. Her hand stretched out, still flicking through channels, to take the mug from me. I sat next to her, crossing one leg over the other as I got used to being this close to the woman of my desires while she was wearing practically no clothes. After one sip of her drink she leant down and put the mug on the floor before sitting up again and continuing to flick through the channels. "Is there anything you want on?" She sunk back into the chair, her arm touching deliciously against mine before turning her face to look at me. I shrugged, mid-sip of my drink.

"Put what you want on. I'd actually just like to talk." Understanding my hint she turned the machine off and turned in on the chair to face me, her legs still crossed. Her toes now brushed against the side of my thigh; this helped me decided that it was better I put down my coffee in case I spilled it.

"Anything in particular? You haven't spoken to me about your home life in a while." I rolled my eyes, shaking my head from side to side lightly. That was not the intention and I would not let that happen.

"No, actually, I wanted to talk about you. Do you mind if I ask you something?" Andrea ran her nails down her neck, obviously thinking whether to say yes. She was a smart girl; she knew that if she allowed me to ask I wouldn't leave without an answer.

"Yes, go on then." She sighed before, once again, leant over to get her coffee and held it in her hand. Gently, she blew onto the hot liquid and sipped quickly, the liquid still slightly too hot to drink normally.

"What weren't you telling me last night?" I looked her in the eye. I needed an answer. If that man had hurt her I would decide that I was involved and I would seriously damage his reputation at work and out of work. I would not have Andrea scared of someone that quite frankly didn't even matter anymore. I didn't know what I expected her to say, but when he smiled and looked down at her mug, circling her finger around the edge, I was quite shocked.

"You're very good at your job, Miranda." She bit her bottom lip, still shaking her head. She looked to her left at nothing in particular, just anything other than me.

"What do you mean?" I gulped down some of my coffee, enjoying the rich taste and scorching heat.

"I mean details. Nothing gets past Miranda Priestly." She looked back. Her eyes, they looked sad, hollow, and ashamed. What had happened?

"Andrea, tell me." I sat forward. I put my coffee down then sat back in the chair, my hand naturally going to rest on her leg in a small sense of comfort.

She shrugged. "I don't want to look like I'm just complaining." She rubbed her nose with her fingers, once again sipping from her drink. "I have to be stronger than I am right now." She whispered, her words broken.

"Telling me what happened, really, won't make you less strong than you are right now." I wanted her to feel more comfortable in telling me, but how on earth could I just conjure up a better atmosphere.

_Oh, for God sake, Miranda._

Sighing, knowing that the thought would not leave my mind if I did not just do it. I let go of her leg, bent down and removed my shoes. I then bent my legs, crossed them as she was and turned in to face her. There was sat like two teenage girls, my fabric clad knees brushing her bare ones. Taking her coffee out of her hand, I settled it down next to mine and took her hands and looked her in the eyes. Her face was a picture. She obviously had not expected me to be sitting in front of her as if we were about to be playing cards.

"Andrea," I whispered, "I'm here for you." Her lips curled upwards as her eyes drifted down to our hands. She brought my hand to her lips, kissing my fingers and, unfortunately, my wedding band.

"Thank you, Miranda." She whispered. She sighed. "Okay," she blew hair out of her face and continued. "So, Nate told me that I loved you, yes, we're up to date on that?" I nodded. "I didn't deny it. I was too shocked to deny it. I mean, how could he just read an expression and come up with that? As I told you, he was drunk or had been drinking. He basically demanded I get my mother opinion on everything." My eyebrows furrowed. I didn't understand. She could probably see my confusion and explained. "He gave me the phone and told me to ring her and confess my love for you and say that my relationship with Nate was just for appearances." I gasped and then prayed she hadn't noticed. She nodded, obviously hearing my sharp intake of air. "I couldn't. I mean, I was in shock and I don't even know what is going on my head and how I feel about you and Nate and I didn't know; I don't know. So I just stood there holding the God damn phone with my mouth open. He snatched it from me," the grip I had on her fingers tightened, "and he dialled her number." She'd begun to whisper, her eyes drifting to the right of my face as she re-lived what had happened in her mind. "She answered and he began talking and I began shouting to give the phone back and for her not to listen to him." Her voice had become monotone and her face pale. "He said 'your daughters a queer, infected bitch' to her. Of course, she asked what he meant and he just said 'she's fucking her boss'. It's not a secret you're my boss so naturally, the meaning of queer became clear to her." She attempted to smile, but her bottom lip was wobbling. I squeezed her fingers supportively, reminding her that I was here. "By now I was screaming and scratching him to give the phone back to me and then he just gave it to me and walked into our bedroom- _his _bedroom. I asked mom if she was okay and she told me not to call either her, dad or my sister for a while. I don't know how long a while is going to be. So basically, I have work and that's it."

"What about friends here? I can recall you, on several occasions, talking to people on the phone when you were supposed to be working." I nudged her, giving her a cheeky wink. It brought a smile to her face, even if for only a second.

"Yeah, I have Doug but Lily is long gone- for the whole 'you're too married to your work' thing. I told her where to stick it."

I couldn't deny that I felt guilty. I understood what this kind of career did to your personal life but this was just all too harsh to be all put onto the shoulders of one person.

"It may not help, but you understand that I, Nigel and Emily would all dive from a great height, head first, to help you. We won't leave you alone." She smiled, give out almost a chuckle as she looked at me. She nodded, looking into my eyes.

"I know that. I'd be lost without you guys."

"Can I ask you something else?" She nodded, running her finger tips along the lines of my palm.

"Do you expect me to just let Nate get away with humiliating you like that?" Her head shot up, danger in her eyes.

"Miranda, no." I sighed. "If you talk to him, look at him even consider finding him I will never talk to you again. This is between me and him. I doubt I'll even talk to him again so don't you dare. Miranda, please no. It's fine, just leave it heal." She was starting to babble. "You can't. What would you even do? Walk to him and say he couldn't cook because that wouldn't work. You can't. Stay away from him." Her hands were suddenly on my shoulders, pulling me forward. "Miranda," she whispered, "promise me that you will just leave him alone. Leave anything to do with his personal life alone. Just, don't go near to him. Promise me."

Reluctantly, I nodded. If it made her feel less nervous, for now, I would promise. "Okay, as you wish. But Andrea, if he hurts you again I cannot just sit back and watch, so don't expect me to." She nodded, pulling me forward into a back breaking hug. Sitting in this awkward position really made me feel my age. She wrapped her arms around my neck, burying her face into the crook above my collar bone.

"Thank you." She whispered, breathing heavily. I could feel her fingers digging into my back as she clung onto me, desperately. I would do anything for her pain and fear to just vanish. I wasn't sure if I'd felt it or not but her lips pressed against me neck before another breathy "thank you, Miranda." I pulled her away, looking at her face. Her eyes were red but no tears were shed and her posture small. She was beautiful. I couldn't resist. I pressed my palm to her cheek, a warm feeling from inside my stomach crept up my spine as she melted into my hand. I brought her face closer to mine, catching her lips against mine. There it was; that passion. Her fingers entwined in my hair, bringing me closer as she leaned back against the chair, taking me with her. I lay on top of her. Her legs uncrossed from underneath me and wrapped naturally around my waist. She was panting against my lips but she was stubborn and refused to come up for air, breathing through her nose and revealing how badly her body wanted this. My mind was buzzing, it was alive.

Our lips broke apart and I kissed her forehead. I felt her hands, those delicious fingers, circle my waist and pull my entire body closer to her. I kissed her neck, a romantic sigh leaving her lips.

"You're so beautiful." I whispered against her lips, once again taking them as my own. I could never get used to this electric running through and along every nerve in my body. It would just never happen.

"Oh, Miranda." She sighed as I let my nails run up her bare thigh and my fingertips, taking the opportunity, snaked slightly under that pale blue t-shirt. If my phone would not have broken through the fire between us, who knows where we would have arrived, but there that horrendous and offending tone was. It was ringing through the passion and made Andrea chuckle. I threw myself back, sitting at the opposite side of the sofa while pulling my phone out of my pocket. It was Nigel. Damn him.

"Nigel." I coughed, my voice rough with un-mistakable desire.

"Woah, Miranda. Sorry for disturbing you." I could feel the cheeky wink in his words.

"What do you want?" I pressed my index finger just above my nose.

"It's one forty five. You have a meeting at two." I looked around in search of a clock. It could not be that late yet. I didn't notice Andrea getting up from the sofa, taking both cold coffees to the kitchen.

"And why is Emily not telling me this?" I, once again, coughed.

"She's on her bathroom break." I rolled my eyes.

"I'll be back in five minu-" Andrea took this sentence to be the one where she let her lips, from behind me, bite my ear lobe gently. I had to stop myself from audibly moaning down the phone. I could feel the smile on Andrea's face as she moved her lips down to my neck.

"Ugh, you okay, Miranda?" I nodded, then realised the he could not see me.

"Yes, yes. Why wouldn't I be? That's all." I ended the call. I turned my gaze to Andrea.

"Do you have to go, Boss?" She whispered in a mock British accent. I rolled my eyes but the smile on my lips was obvious. She stole one last kiss before hurrying off to get my coat. I straightened my outfit up in the mirror, replaced my shoes onto my feet before walking into the hallway, where Andrea stood holding up my coat. She assisted me in putting it on then straightened my collar and smoothed down my shoulders. Nodding, she opened the door. "Come back anytime." She winked.

I patted her arm as I left the door, a smile on my face. I chuckled as I clicked the button for the elevator, remembering the awful British accent she had graced me with. As I stepped into the elevator and saw the very same woman and the very same child, the smile vanished. I stepped inside, retrieving my gloves from my pocket and using them as an excuse to not create conversation. The Editor-in-Chief of Runway had returned.

**Hey lovely people. I'm actually really pleased with this chapter. I was planning on adding the next chapter on the end of it but (I'm half way through the next chapter) decided that it was far too long as one part so I've split them up. Sorry. Also, this means you get a quicker helping yey :D **

**I cannot thank you guys enough for all the amazing reviews. I thought you'd all sort of given up hope with me but the last chapter was a great success yey :D I love you all. As always, reviews make concert tickets and cookies appear underneath your pillow. :D**


	14. Chapter 14

**7:03am**

I hadn't lifted my head since I'd left the car. I'd been skimming through my e-mails on my cell phone as an attempt to look less on edge. It was not something to be nervous about, Andrea would be here, but I was quite anxious that when I walked into the office she wouldn't be there; that she'd decided that her job had affected her too much for her to return. I had ruined her life. I'd realised that last night. I was the one that had caused her to marry her work, apparently, and I was the one who had forced everyone away from her. I had forced her to end up alone and with no family to turn to. I was the bad guy, once again.

As I entered the elevator I sighed, dropping my phone from my gaze and just stared blankly at the walls of the small space. She wouldn't be there, I knew she wouldn't disappoint be, but she wouldn't be here. The small space around me was a comfort yet also a threat. The good thing was that I was alone in here, nobody could see my worries. The bad thing was that I was alone in here and nobody could see me with my worries. The temptation to sigh back into the corner so I wouldn't have to see Andrea's empty chair was something I was finding difficult to handle.

Then, the doors opened. I couldn't ignore this, not that I was having much success in ignoring it. It was all I could think of since around 2am this morning. Sighing, I stepped out of the elevator. Luckily, Emily came to my side and started forcing me to concentrate on something other than the brunette that had been keeping me from sleeping. "The shoot is confirmed for next week. We're currently organising transport. Mark wants to know if you wish to have your own car. Kerry has called once again; the phone hasn't been on the hook for the past hour."

I passed her the book, more of a habit now than anything else, before sighing out of my coat as I walked and passing it to the red head. "I need my own car, yes, only one of you or Andrea need be present in the car with me. Have you organised for the girls to be at their fathers?" She nodded. I was impressed that Emily had thought of something along those lines.

"Andrea made the call half an hour ago." Ah, of course. _Andrea_ had confirmed. I had to try to not show the utter happiness in my expression. Andrea was back, she was still here.

Everything she said from then on had been shut out. I simply wanted to get into my office and see that young girl smile. It seemed like we were walking a mile long marathon but, eventually, we turned the corner and were heading for the office. I saw _her_ cross the room through the glass doors and sit at her desk, and then she spotted my coming. Oh, that smile did wonders to me. She stood, even though she'd just sat down, and came around the desk. Emily opened the door and then rushed passed me. Andrea went to take my coat off of Emily but was waved away and handed her the book. She clutched it to her chest, almost hugging it and I suddenly became jealous of the inanimate object. It had her perfect fingers fiddling with its spine and it didn't even care. Then, I decided that un-pursing my lips while staring at my assistant's fingers would be a good idea. My eyes shot up, almost guiltily, and I let a smile spread across my face.

"Morning, Miranda." She nodded.

"Morning." I let my bag fall with a thud to Emily's desk before turning and just admiring the girl. She cleaned up well. Yesterday, she'd worn a bed shirt, obviously the one she'd worn that night, and some small shorts. Today, she wore a black pencil skirt and a maroon blouse paired with black platform heels that were un-shamefully coated in black glitter. As yesterday's performance had been simply beautiful and captivating, this was the look that got my mind and body working.

Having finished hanging up my coat, Emily returned to her desk to retrieve the bag and take it into my office. "Andy, take the book down quickly. For heaven's sake." I could feel the eye roll in her voice as she turned her back from us both and entered my office, it was hard to miss. Andrea, clumsy and adorable, stumbled on her own feet as the words sunk in. She did not fall but I could see the blush creep onto her features as she realised that my slight chuckle was due to her wonderful foot work.

As Andrea slowly left the room, I leant back on Emily's desk. I sighed, I was content.

**10:23pm**

Andrea had been given back the duty of bringing the book and I was pleased. Not that seeing Emily exhausted and messy wasn't thrilling but I did feel better for knowing that it was Andrea letting herself into my house and not the cocky Brit. I sat myself down in my study with a small glass of gin and tonic, flipping through pages and pages of today's newspaper looking for something I'd missed this morning. Finding nothing, I simply closed my eyes and allowed myself to day dream.

After ten minutes or so I heard a small knock at the door. The book wasn't expected for another twenty minutes but the first thought running through my mind was that it was Andrea. I called that the door was open then folded the paper and threw it vaguely in the direction of the bin. When I turned my face towards the door, it wasn't Andrea and seeing that is was in fact Stephen made something inside of my dark cloud once more. Even the sight of him made me regret so much.

"Can we talk?" He muttered loud enough for me to hear. I cleared my throat, looking away from him, my mood already in shambles. Why did he make me so weak?

"About what?" I sighed back into my chair.

"Us." I cannot deny, I glared. The look probably gave him uncomfortable shivers down his spine. How dare he? Was there even an _us _for _us _to talk about?

"Excuse me?" I whispered with all the spite and hate I could. What had I been thinking when I married this man; let this man touch me; let this man interact with my children? I was disgusted in him but I was disgusted in me too. "And why would you want to do that?" I pulled forward my glass, taking a long sip before letting it sit on the table in front of me and listening to the little bubbles fizzing from it. I cleared my throat as the burning of alcohol set in, my eyes flickered shut for a second.

"Miranda, I want to fix this." I could feel it, the small crack in my mind slowly getting deeper and wider and bigger, I could feel it. With every word he said it was getting more deadly, more dangerous and more painful for me to keep from saying something. "We broke each other, I admit that. I had a part to play in everything and I'm sorry that I've not realized that until now." I closed my eyes, my neck naturally tensing. "I hate hearing you come home from work every day and just," he swallowed, he was forcing himself to do this, he didn't mean any of it. "you just walk straight past my room. I don't see you anymore."

"You wanted to see me in the first place?" The grip I had on my glass was getting stronger and stronger. If I hadn't been so wired on anger and hate and self-loathing I would have put away the glass in fear of breaking it. I sighed, trying to relief some of the building stress in my mind, some of the black cloud that was stuck in my brain, some of the icy fire that was hurting me. Nothing was working.

"Of course I did. You were my wife."

"Were?" I spat.

"You _are _my wife, I meant." I rolled my eyes, scoffing. Turning in my chair, I sighed slightly into it. I felt close to tears of anger. This was horrible. I once had thought I could still find it in myself to love this man again but this conversation was proving me wrong. I didn't love this man, I couldn't love this man. "Miranda." He whispered.

"What?" I skulked, picking at my nail polish and sinking further down the chair, not wanting him to see anything of me.

"I love you." I couldn't believe he'd said it. Then I realized what he'd said. Then I snapped. I spun the chair up, at the same pushing myself from it to stand and forced myself to lean over the desk all within a couple of seconds. I couldn't hold the anger back anymore.

"Bullshit!" I shouted. Stephen's eyes widened at both my language and my raised voice, but I didn't care. I was passed caring. "You don't give a shit about me! You don't give a shit about anybody!"

"Miranda," he looked towards the door, eyebrows raised, "the girls are asleep."

"What do you care? You don't love them! You don't love any of us! You're just so self-centred and obsessed with yourself that nobody else gets a fucking look in!" He stepped back. "Was she worth it? I know she's been here a while, this _Beth, _but tell me, was she really worth it?" I put my hands on my hips, a predatory smile on my face. "Was she worth every kiss? Every touch?" Stephen rolled his eyes and looked away from me. "Every time you brought her here and fucked her on the floor?"

"Wait, that is unfair." He interrupted.

"What? What is unfair?" I held my hand out, demanding an answer. "Tell me." I growled at him.

We glared at each other for over a minute, both silently battling to not be the first one to speak. His gaze was nothing, it just showed how mine was breaking him. Finally, he spoke.

"Fine," he gave in, "I think it is unfair because _you," _he pointed his finger at me, "are just a bitch. You know I was led to cheating by you yourself."

"What?" I raised my voice, once again. Disbelief must have shown through my expression. "That is- I led you to- oh no." I shook my head. "That is complete-"

"Complete what?" He interrupted again, having his own little outburst. "You with your constant working and complaining that a layout is the wrong shade of pink and your refusal to even look at me after a day of work and you're saying it's complete what?" He held his hands up, almost egging for me to recoil.

"I'm saying that you're just weak." I smiled sweetly earning a scoff from him. "Oh please. Don't you see yourself? You married a working woman and then got upset when she was too tired to help and complete your sexual needs so you turned to somebody different that obviously, by the way she dressed, wanted it as badly as you did. That doesn't come over as weak, to you? It's unimaginative. You're weak, pathetic, disgusting. What did you even think I would say?" I chuckled. "Did you think I would hear you say you loved me and just bow at your feet?" I picked up my glass, casually taking a sip and walking around the table in front of me. "Did you think I would ignore the fact that you've _had_ some dirty blonde in this house and just crawl back to you like I couldn't walk out of this door and forget you?"

"I just thought-"

"Well you thought wrong!" I shouted suddenly, almost physically throwing my glass at him. "Just, get…" I stopped, those tears suddenly showing themselves. I tried to ignore their presence but the small bubbles of water hanging on my waterline and eyelashes begun to burn. I looked to my right, wiping my eyes.

"You call me weak and then you burst out crying." One single sob left my lips as I bent at the waist, tears streaming down my face. "You're the pathetic one, Miranda." I dropped the glass, the liquid spilling on the carpet. I bent at the waist, clutching my stomach as sobs wrenched through my system. I was too angry. My mind couldn't cope with this and I hated myself for letting tears be the answer. "I'm going to my room."

"No." I stuttered. "Get out of my house." I pointed at him, my hand shaking shamefully. I couldn't deal with the hate and the guilt in my mind. I was in so much pain.

"I'll talk to you in the morning." He ignored what I said, increasing my anger and pain and blurred vision.

"Get out of my house!" I shouted, voice cracking, taking the final dose of brave from me as my legs gave way underneath me. I landed close to my glass, taking it in my hand and throwing it weakly to where he stood. It hit the small wooden table in front of him, shattering it. "Get out of my house." I forced through tears. "Please, just get out." Sobs were racking through my system, my throat was aching and my lungs were burning.

He stepped forward to me, holding his hand out but not before he had a chance to roll his eyes. "Get up, Miranda." He sighed. "Sleep this off, we'll talk tomorrow."

"Don't you realise what I'm saying?" I spat, waving his hand away as I slumped against the wooden desk behind me. "I want you gone and I want you gone tonight." My voice got caught in my throat and I held my fingers to my mouth to cover my shame, or what wasn't yet showing of it.

"Fine," he slapped his offered hand down on his thigh, giving up his offer, "I'll be out when I have somewhere else to stay." He sighed, turning away and muttering something to himself, before slamming the door behind him, causing me to jump and fall completely against the floor. The tears and sobs had vanished, now I just concentrated on breathing. I tucked myself up, my fingers playing with the wool from the edge of the white rug lying next to me.

What seemed like forever but not long enough passed by. I heard a door open downstairs. I started shaking. Andrea. I knew it in my gut. Then, just to back up my theory, I head heels clicking quietly up the stairs. I was now scared, petrified, ashamed. I tried to push myself up but as the door opened I'd only reached sitting up, slightly tilted to the side. The door was pushed open slowly, the brunettes face appearing through the crack. I sighed. I wouldn't get out of this with an "I'm fine."

"Oh my God, Miranda." She hurried over, the noise of her heels crashing into my 'reality'. She grabbed me under my arm and pulled me to my feet, letting me lean on her. I wrapped my fingers around the fabric of her shirt and pulled it to cover my face. I was humiliated. I wouldn't have minded just vanishing, then and there. Andrea, the angel, made comforting noises as she ran her fingers through my hair as I cried. Slowly, my tears stopped and my breathing became calm, but I did not unbury my face from her shirt. She threw the book to the desk behind me before putting her hands on both my shoulders and pushed me to look her in the eye.

Before she could say I anything, I whispered "I just, I can't do this anymore." One single tear rolled down already wet cheeks.

"Did he hurt you?" I shook my head, wiping my eyes with my fingertips. I was so exhausted. She went to say something else but changed her mind. "Come with me." She took my hand in hers and pulled me from the room, leaving the glass shattered on the floor. As if reading my mind, she spoke "I'll deal with the mess." She pulled me up the second flight of stairs and into my bedroom. I'd noticed when walking passed that Stephens room was empty, all the lights shut off. He'd obviously fled. Through the bedroom, she pulled me until we reached the bathroom. She sat me down on the closed toilet and hurried back into the other room.

My face fell into my hands. I probably looked a complete mess. I could see how smudged my make-up was on the top of my cheeks and just dreading having to look in the mirror and be reminded of the ugly person I was. I simply hated it and I hated me and what I was doing to me and every other person in this world. Minus the 'inspirational' job and seemingly wonderful public image I had what? Yes, I had my children but I was hurting them. They're reaction to the divorce between me and their father had been enough to prove that. I had Andrea but she was an assistant. She was paid to be here. I had Emily and Nigel, but as Andrea, they weren't here because they wanted to be. I had nobody.

Andrea came back into the room, setting some of my silk pyjamas on the floor. "Right," she whispered to herself looking around the room. It was rare that she was in my bedroom or bathroom, only having been here once or twice before an event where I demanded her be present. She hurried over to the bathroom cabinet, getting out some make-up wipes and some moisturiser. "Come here." She held her hand out and as I took it. She pulled me to stand in front of her so she stood behind me as we both looked in the mirror. Yes, an absolute mess. I had make-up wiped down my cheeks, red eyes and pale lips. On top of that, the way I was holding myself made my clothes appeared oversized and tattered. "You're beautiful." She whispered, kissing my neck once and wrapping her arms around me to reach for the make-up wipes. In one swift move she'd turned me around and was wiping the soft cloth over my face.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, almost so quietly she couldn't hear. Her lips curved to a slight frown.

"Why are you sorry?" She whispered in response.

"Because I've changed you." Andrea looked me in the eye, seemingly searching for my soul.

"What do you mean?" She never once stopped stroking my face and taking care of me.

"I don't know." I shook my head, earning a sigh from the brunette as she still me to continue wiping at my face.

"Yes you do. What did you mean?" She bent over to bin the wipe, retrieving another one to move onto the other side of my face.

"I mean," I sighed. I could feel the tears once again streaming to my eyes but, this time, I refused to let them shed. "I mean that I've changed you from who you were and who you wanted to be." She nodded, a sign to continue. "I just feel that I've stripped your identity and replaced it with what I wanted of you and didn't give you any room to grow and become yourself." She smiled.

"Miranda, don't you understand? Sure, you changed me." She shrugged, "but as it was happening I decided I wanted to let you change me. I adored the person you were giving to me too much to stop you from creating her. I love what you've helped me become, Miranda." She gazed into my eyes.

"But you've lost so much and it's my fault." Andrea smiled. I didn't understand.

"I haven't lost anything, Miranda." She threw away the second wipe and grabbed the moisturiser, putting a drop into her hands and rubbing it into her skin. "I've just been shown what I truly have and what I wanted more than anything." Raising an eyebrow was all I could do. I had no idea what she meant. "Miranda, it's not something you should feel sorry about but I know saying that won't make you any better. For your sake, I forgive you." She held my hands in hers, beginning to massage the moisturiser into my hands and wrists.

A moment of silence passed before I gained the confidence to ask what was on my mind.

"You want something more than anything?" I looked down at our hands, how Andrea stroked every finger lovingly and with care. She was a true angel. All she did was nod. "Can I ask what?"

"I'm not sure you want to hear the answer." Her voice dropped. She was ashamed, I could tell.

"Andrea," my voice was firm. "I never ask for the sake of it. You should know that."

"I suppose" she mumbled.

"Is this something me?" I was being bold but I really wanted the answer. I needed the answer. The blush that crept up her neck as her eyes widened was enough to confirm my suspicions. I was that something. "I am, aren't I?" I smirked, tilting my head slightly.

"Oh my God, Miranda, you can't tell anybody. I mean, I know people sort of have an idea but I don't need their ideas confirmed." She was starting to babble. "Miranda, seriously, I would not hear the last of it. I was always the one refusing to admit I liked you in that way. If they found out I had been lying the whole time I would never live it down." My lips curled upwards. So she'd been hiding this for some time. "No, Miranda, don't smile. You look like you're planning something. Nigel is already on my case because of the whole hug he walked in on and if he finds out everything I've been sarcastically nodding at is true his innuendos will just get ten times worse."

I held my hand up to stop her. "Andrea, don't worry. I won't tell a soul." She sighed, dropping her hands yet didn't let go of mine.

"Thank you." She whispered, relief written all over her face. "Your pyjamas are there," She pointed towards the small bundle of clothes she'd brought into the bathroom. "I would help you change but I don't think you'd want me to after that confession." Her cheeks faded into a beautiful pink. Before I could tell her she'd been wrong, how feeling her hands on me would be welcomed and not repulsive, she'd closed the door behind her. I sighed, turning to look in the mirror. My eyes were still puffy and red but my face was fresh, clean and peachy. I sniffed, wetting my hands and wiping my face. I took a towel from the rack and wiped away the moisture.

Slowly, I stripped down to my underwear and delicately replaced my clothes with the silk garments Andrea had fetched for me. I hoped she'd still be here, that when I opened the door she'd be sitting on the edge of the bed and that she hadn't fled. I wanted her to still be here. I was quite afraid to open the door, listening to the painful silence on the other side of the door just made me feel that she wasn't there. My fingers wrapped tightly around the door handle before I pushed the door open hesitantly.

When I saw Andrea propped on the ultimate edge of the bed I let myself relax. She'd be here for me always, I could see that now. Her eyes were closed but she was obviously awake. She must have been so tired. Closing the door silently behind me, I cleared my throat to get her attention. Her eyes opened calmly, focusing and blinking as she saw me.

"Woah." She whispered, looking me over. I could feel myself going red as her eyes took in what I was wearing. I wonder if she'd realised at the time she'd picked a deep purple silk short and tank top set. My breathing was increasing. Seeing her eyes darken as she looked at me set something inside of my stomach alight, but I refused to act on it tonight. I was still quite shaken up about the evening's events. "Miranda, you're" she swallowed, "you're so beautiful."

"I don't know about that." I began playing with my fingers, picking at the nails as I looked down, officially blushing.

"No, Miranda. You're stunning." I glanced back up at her, she was smiling. That smile was what made me smile in return, not the fact that Andrea had just called me beautiful but that smile. I adored that smile. "Well, I better go." She pushed herself up from her chair, sighing as she finally was standing up straight. I went to say something but the words I wanted to say vanished. There I stood, mouth opening and closing with nothing coming out of it. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"No."

"Huh?" I hadn't realized I'd said it until she turned back at me, a confused expression on her face.

"Andrea," I questioned myself. Why was I saying this? "Will you stay here for a while longer?" I paused, Andrea's face was unreadable. Was she shocked, disgusted, appalled? "Just until I fall asleep, then you can go."

"Miranda?" She turned back, her expression now one of complete worry. "Are you okay?"

I nodded frantically. "Yes, I just don't trust myself to fall asleep alone after a night like this." Her eyes became wide as the rest of her face dropped. I was suddenly really aware of what I had just said. Again, I began to play with my nails, too embarrassed to look Andrea in the eye.

"Of course I'll stay." She whispered. The smile on her face was obvious somehow in her voice. "Get into bed." She stroked my arm, walking past me and grabbing the chair that sat in the corner of the room. I hurried into the warm blankets, burying myself in pillows as Andrea sat to the right of the bed. I turned the bed side light on, giving the room a better light. She sat on the chair but seemed unhappy, then got up again and grabbed a pillow from Stephen's side of the bed. She placed it on the back rest of the chair before setting herself down again. She sighed into it, pushing herself further into the pillow that supported her back.

"I didn't think you'd want to stay." I whispered into the duvet.

"Of course I want to stay. I just never thought you'd ask me." She cleared her throat. "Can I put my feet on the bed?" I chuckled, the question so blatantly Andrea. I nodded, but seeing her put her heels on the bed made something inside me shiver.

"Oh, Andrea," my eyebrows furrowed together, "Can you take your shoes off if you're going to have your feet up?" The corner of her mouth curved upwards. She kicked off her heels before replacing her feet on the sheets. "Thank you."

Andrea sarcastically gasped. "She says thank you." I rolled my eyes, a small laugh escaping my lips.

"Oh, please." I pushed the blanket down from around my face, turning onto my back. I couldn't describe how I felt right now. Was silence a feeling? It was both good and bad silence mixed into one creating this huge puddle of nothingness that somehow didn't feel that bad. Daintily, I closed my eyes. Yes, silence. Only Andrea's breathing from the other side of the room. My eyes stayed shut for a couple of moments before finally opening them and peering at the ceiling. I turned my head to the side, studying Andrea. She was asleep. She looked so calm and peaceful with half of her face pressed up against the back of the chair and her arm tucked awkwardly around her. I turned on my side once more, turned the bed side lamp off, not wanting to wake Andrea. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was the snoring of the brunette woman. This, incidentally, was also the last thing that made me smile before darkness claimed my senses.

**Howdy there. The only thing I can blame this time is good old procrastination. Sorry guys. As always, reviews give you a day pass to Disney land and a hand shake from Barack Obama. But no seriously guys, I adore reading your opinions. It always brings a smile to my face. *HUGS***


	15. Chapter 15

**4:30am**

My alarm startled me. I physically flinched even in my sleep. It had been four days since I had awoken to Andrea's sleeping figure resting quietly at the other side of the room. I'd sat there, watching her as I wrapped my robe around my shoulders. I didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful but there was work to be done. Waking up without Andrea now seemed unappealing. Now that I'd had gold, silver no longer interested me.

Today, I was getting up especially early. The girls had promised they'd packed everything to be off to their fathers but my mothers instinct knew that they would be missing socks or maybe shampoo and I just wanted to double check. I stood in the empty room, letting this be one of the only times other than Christmas and birthdays where I let myself remain in my bed clothes and slip on a pair of vanilla slippers and not statement heels. I brushed through my hair with my fingers and left the room, closing the door quietly as not to wake anybody. Stephen, of course, had been gone for two or three days so I didn't have to worry about waking him. I hadn't been here when he came to retrieve his belongings but Cara had explained how he gave her the cold shoulder; how he'd come in carrying a bag, went through the fresh washing and what was left to press and iron, zipped up his bag and left. I had completely avoided the whole interaction and I was sadistically thrilled. He'd gone. I knew we would have to see each other sooner or later, we were still married after all, but right now I was free of him. I didn't have to come home to an ungrateful husband skulking in his bedroom.

The girls' bags were in the lounge downstairs. I padded into the kitchen, getting myself a cool and refreshing glass of water before returning to the lounge. It appeared they had decided to share a bag. I found only one family sized suit case lying on the floor with half of the contents in between lying on the floor and actually in the bag. Smirking, I set my glass down on the table on the coffee table and sat myself down on the floor next to the bag. Opening it, I started to sift through what the girls had decided to put into it. After a couple of minutes I heard footsteps coming down the stairs behind me. Cassidy was suddenly sitting cockily next to me. She would grow up to be such a diva, I could see it happening.

"Mom," she said in a matter of factual voice. "You do realise it is not even 5am, right?"

I nodded, hiding a smirk. "Of course I do."

"Why are you even up this early?" Cassidy snuggled into my side, wrapping one of her arms around my belly and tugging me closer. Her sister stumbled in after her, rubbing her eyes. To my ultimate delight she settled herself down, in exactly the same position as Cassidy but the opposite side of me. I had my two ultimate joys either side of my small frame with their arms wrapped around me as Caroline blew air into Cassidy's eyes. They were so captivating. I could simply watch them interact for hours, but right now was not the time.

"I could ask you two exactly the same thing." I pressed a kiss to the top of Caroline's head, relishing when she curved her face into my arm, seeking a comfort that only a mother could give. My hand subconsciously moved to her hair. My fingers stroked through her red tangles.

"We heard you were awake and she decided we should check if you were okay." Caroline yawned, obviously not yet completely awake. Her confession brought a smile to my face.

"I'm fine, Bobbseys." And I was. I wasn't lying about that. It was refreshing to say I felt okay and to actually mean it. "Now," I unravelled both girls from under my arms and pulled the bag closer to us. "We are going through this. I want to make sure you have everything. You'll be at your fathers for a week. Only Cara will be here and there is a four hour drive for her to bring you whatever you've forgotten so we're checking now." I raised my eyebrows, smiling as I made a small pile of the t-shirts they had both picked and looking through them. I could sense both girls looking at each other, a smile on their face but eyes that clearly hoped I was joking. As I leant back to my original position, I beamed a smile. Both girls raised their eyebrows and laughed.

"Okay," Cassidy sighed. "I guess we're doing this." She moved so she was looking over the case and Caroline, now with her back pressed up against the sofa behind me and her toes snaking their way slowly under my bottom, begun shouting things out that they needed while Cassidy burrowed through the bag making sure that item was there. Every now and then Cassidy would get to her feet and run out of the room only to return minutes later carrying the item Caroline had just mentioned. It was a good way of getting things done. They made sure there was everything while I made sure what they'd packed would last and be suitable. Two jumpers, a pair of jeans and a muddy pair of trainers had been removed from the bag and would soon be removed from the house completely but other than that, the girls had done a good job.

"Cassidy," I whispered as all three of us sunk into the sofa, "I know I'm a pain but would you go and make three bowls of cerea?l" I gave the girl a cheesy smile, bringing a chuckle from the young girl.

"Fine" she pushed herself off the chair, overreacting maybe a little too much as she groaned while he body straightened up. "Do you want sugar on yours?" she whispered to her sister.

"If you add any sugar on that cereal I'll just assume you wish to have dental braces fitted and I'll take you there instead of your fathers." I kept my face completely straight. I was not joking. If there was anything I was proud about when bringing up my girls it was that they had never had a filling. Cassidy nodded, understanding that I meant what I said, before shuffling into the kitchen. I cringed as I heard a horribly loud noise of a bowl hitting the kitchen marble top. When I heard no smashing noise I let go of the breath the loud noise had forced me to keep hold of. I could tell that the young red head was now being careful, knowing that my ears were picking up every mistake she made.

Caroline jumped up and rushed over to the television, having finally woken up. She stood, hand on hip, flicking through the channels, looking for one we could all watch. She decided on a Disney show; don't ask me what it was called but Demi Lovato looked very young. The last time I'd seen the young woman was in a middle page spread in Runway following the release of her album. I hadn't met her myself but Nigel had told me she was a wonderful girl.

"What's this?" she sat herself down, leaning forward holding the remote in her hands while peering happily at the television. I rested my hand on her shoulders and tugged her softly back to sit properly.

"It's Sonny With A Chance." I chuckled, the conversation ending there as the young girl once again became captivated with what was happening on the screen.

"What is it about?" I rested my head on her shoulder, cherishing as she let her head rest slightly on top of mine.

"That girl, there, with the brown hair got found by the other people online and they invited her to be on their show." I raised an eyebrow.

"What did she do online?" I questioned.

"She posted funny videos" The brown haired girl, Demi, said something funny causing my girl to burst out laughing. The sweet noise filled the room and all of my senses, causing a similar reaction within myself. There we both sat, smiles on our faces and giggles jumping through the air. Seconds later, Cassidy stumbled in holding three oversized bowls, milk silently threatening to glide over the rim and spill dramatically onto the carpet. The bowl she had propped between both wrists was the bowl I took, giving her the freedom to hold the other two bowls normally. She passed one of the bowls to her sister before pulling out three spoons from her pocket, dropping one in each bowl.

Messy was not even close to the way both girls were eating. Obscure, that was more accurate. They proceeded to fill up their spoon as high with cereal as they could before eating only the green hoops, then the orange hoops and carrying on until only the pink were left. If they ate as much as one hoop the wrong colour they'd drop all the hoops back into the bowl and start over again. Was this normal for twelve year olds? I could not recall myself ever eating in that way.

When I noticed the clock, eight o'clock, I cleared my throat. "Girls, go and get dressed. Your father will be here in half an hour." Both girls, now completely awake, scurried around the sofa and out of the room. I could hear childlike games being played as they climbed the stairs, the chant of _try and catch me _ringing down the hall and into the living room. The smile was still plastered on my face. I turned the television off, the sudden silence startling me slightly. As I went to leave I picked up the bowls left from the cereal and placed them in the kitchen sink.

I spent around ten minutes simply looking out of the window, listening to the happiness emulating from upstairs. The bell rang, bringing me out of my dream. It took a moment to realise that Cara wasn't here yet so I would have to open the door myself. I shuffled to the door, adjusting my robe to make sure I wasn't showing anything. I briefly stopped to check myself in the mirror. No makeup and messy hair. This would be front page if there was a camera outside. Sighing, another chime of the bell was sounded.

"I'm coming." I called, hurrying closer to the door, ignoring appearance for now. I tugged the door, letting it slowly slide open. A fresh breeze fluttered through my hair and against my clothes, causing me to pull the collar of my robe tighter around my neck. It was Bill, the girls' father. I ushered him in, appreciating that he took his hat off as he entered. Bill was charming. Even after the divorce we still managed to remain polite. I wouldn't say friends but we were definitely not enemies.

"How are things, Miranda?" He smiled the goofy smile I saw on my twins every single day. Yes, quite charming.

I nodded. "Yes, things are fine. With you?" I continued into the lounge, zipping up the bag and pulling it to stand up. Bill, the gentleman he was, took it from me to hold himself.

"Yes, all good. Rose and the dog are fantastic." My lips curved upwards. I'd completely forgotten. Last time the girls came back from their fathers they'd been raving how Bills wife, Rose, had finally let him get a dog and Bill had chosen a German shepherd. I'd had photographs of this dog thrown at me for weeks. It was adorable, I had to admit.

Seconds later, a stampede could be heard coming down the stairs. I turned, arms crossed.

"No running please. You'll decapitate yourself coming down those stairs one day." Both girls' arms were flung around their fathers frame. I could not help but smile, the happiness in the room engulfing me and bringing a warm glow to my features.

"Hey, thanks for this Miranda." His arms wrapped lovingly around both girls. "It means so much to look after them during the week as well as the weekend when Stephen could have done it."

"No, thank you." I bowed my head, hoping the girls would keep quiet on the Stephen situation. "They were thrilled when I told them about the possibility of this week happening." Both girls began nodding into their father's shirt, bless them.

"Right, we should hit the road." He clapped both hands together, earning a high pitched squeal from both girls. Bless the man. He had two excited girls in the back of his car for four hours. I admired him.

When they were both sat safely in the car, under my orders Bill checked seatbelts; they began waving and smiling as I stood in the doorway to the empty house. I would not let tears shed as the car grew smaller and smaller as it went down the street, finally crossing a corner. I'd done this before, sent them for longer than a weekend, but every time it felt like I'd never see them again.

I sighed, deciding now would be a good time to get myself dressed and packed. The girls would not be the only ones away from this house for a week after all.

**12:01pm**

Again, the doorbell rang. This time, I knew that Cara would do the honours of answering the door so I stayed in my room. I tucked the clothes that were spilling out of the edges of my case back into the bag before doing the zip and buckle up. Tugging it off the bed, I sighed at how heavy it was. So much for only packing what I needed. No doubt that Nigel would make some snide remark on how I seemed to be planning to stay on the shoot for a year. I pulled it to the door, my back bent at an awkward angle as I dragged it. Times like this was when I cursed looks and felt bad that I hadn't picked suitability instead. My bag had no wheels, like I'd forced the girl's to have, so I'd have to carry it down the stairs.

I'd finally got it to the edge of the stairs but I'd given up. There was no way I would get it down two flights of stairs without breaking my neck. I quickly scurried down the first flight of stairs and bent over the banister of the second.

"Cara." I awaited a response, but didn't get one. "Cara!" I shouted this time, straining my ears.

I heard two sets of feet click to the bottom of the stairs.

"She's outside." Roy shouted. "What do you need?"

"Come and give me a hand with my bag." I knew he'd have heard, even though I whispered. When I heard both sets of feet hurry up the stairs, I myself made my way to my bag. I stood behind it, hands on hips, just glaring at it. As Roy and Andrea came to the top of the stair case, both of their expressions turned to one of humour. Roy being the complete gentleman he was shooed Andrea and myself away from helping and took the bag's handle in his hand, heaving it up with a rather dramatic "euugh" before scuttling down the stairs, his other hand holding onto the banister for support.

"What have you packed?" Andrea was still smiling as I came out of my bedroom, wrapping a white silk scarf around my neck. "The entire Runway closet?"

I scoffed. "And would that surprise you?"

"Nothing you do surprises me." We walked down the hallway together, on our way to the stairs.

"Nothing?" I enquired.

"Well, there's probably one or two things." She winked. That combined with what she'd just said made something warm yet cold at the same time shiver in my chest and all the way down my back. Oh, this week would be fun.

**1:23pm**

We'd been on the road for around an hour. My car consisted of Andrea, sitting to my left, and Roy driving. Andrea had received a photograph on her cell phone of what Emily had pulled from her sleeve for the models, herself and Nigel. They had tour buses. The whole interior had been black leather and even had a mini bar and 3 televisions. The photographers hadn't been that lucky, getting a simple 11 man van. I'd rolled my eyes upon seeing the pictures of the tour buses but could not help curling my lips slightly.

For the first half an hour or so, everything in our car had been silent. Andrea's eyes were closed, she was not sleeping just simply resting her eyes, and the only noise that was heard was Roy's occasional coughing and the busy roads outside. It was calming. After this, Andrea had got her cell phone out and was playing some game. I'd ignored the horrible music coming from the contraption for around five minutes but then it started drilling into my mind and I did not want to be singing it later so I subtly cleared my throat, glad that Andrea took this as a hint to turn down the music.

Soon after that, the young girl received a text message. I'd noticed the sharp intake of air and how she turned the screen away from prying eyes, mine. What was the girl so secretive about? I was tempted to shift over, peer over her shoulder but I couldn't. She quickly sent a reply, exhaling deeply as she looked out the window. My eyebrow naturally rose. I was curious.

Around three text messages later and Andrea's breathing wasn't yet back to normal, thus the curiosity was still there. Without her noticing I'd managed to get my cell phone out of my pocket. I quickly typed in a message to the girl sitting inches away from me.

_What are you doing that changes your breathing so drastically? M._

When her phone pinged, my message arriving at its destination, her breathing stopped completely. I had to turn my face completely to look out of the window, not wanting my smile to be obvious. After a couple of moments, I received one back.

_It's just Nigel fooling around, don't worry. A._

I was very curious. What had he said?

_What did he say that made you so un-composed? M._

The reply took a long time to arrive. She must have been thinking what an appropriate thing to reply with was.

_You don't want to know. A._

I rolled my eyes. I noticed Roy's eyes. He must have been confused, thinking we were texting each other but not sure whether he was right or not.

_Do not make me ask twice. M._

I pressed my fingertips to my lips, contemplating what Nigel had said to make her so dis-shelved. I couldn't think of anything. I continued to look out the window, cars and building pistoling past us. Soon, we'd be arriving at the hotel, a mile from where the shoot was being held. The shoot was set in Washington DC. The models would be wearing clean and crisp outfits, posing on clean and crisp streets with clean and crisp weather. The only thing different would be makeup. The makeup would be harsh, messy, almost rushed. The makeup would be drama on a simple and elegant frame. It would be divine.

_But it's crude. A._

Again, I rolled my eyes.

_Andrea, tell me what he said. M._

I had no right to ask into what he'd said. I just couldn't help it. Another five or ten minutes later, I finally got the answer.

_I can't believe I'm telling you this. He said "Stop thinking about her fingers." I don't know what to say. A._

Was I smirking? I was smirking. I was completely disgusted at Nigel for even insinuating something so un-innocent but yes, I was smirking. The thought of my fingers had caused Andrea to adjust the way she was breathing, almost as if the thought of my fingers had caused her thoughts to adjust, adapting my fingers into the story she'd been painting in her mind.

_And were you thinking of my fingers? M._

What was I doing? I was acting like a school girl, sneaking dirty notes under the table in a biology lesson. When the message pinged on Andrea's phone I sneaked a cheeky look in her direction. She was smiling, her cheeks red and eyes wide as she typed a message back. As she sent send she cheekily looked through the corners of her eyes at me. I held my cell phone up, preparing for the text that hadn't even arrived yet. When it finally came, I averted my gaze away from the girl and down at the screen.

Woah.

_Miranda, there isn't a moment of the day when I'm not thinking of your fingers. A._

Well, that had left me speechless. I felt flushed.

We turned a corner, causing my body to slide slightly closer to Andrea's. My foot came in contact with her calf, giving that I had my legs crossed. She hissed at the sudden contact but I couldn't pull away. Even through the bottom of my heels I could feel tingling, the sensation of being so close to Andrea burning my skin. But Andrea being Andrea had to go one better. Five minutes later, the driver in front of us braked suddenly, causing Roy to start swearing uncontrollably and Andrea's left hand to grab onto the car door and for her right hand to grab tightly onto my thigh. I slid forward on the chair, my skirt rippling up my legs slightly. The whole thing happened so quickly, making me cry out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure, her nails digging into my skin in all the right places. My hand quickly covered my mouth, shock in myself that I'd made such a noise in front of my driver. I looked up quickly, searching for the small little mirror in the front of my car. Unfortunately, as Andrea pulled her hand away from my thigh, that was when Roy decided to look up from the road. He'd got the image of me, skirt quite high up my thighs and Andrea seemingly pulling her hand from my thighs. Add the noise I'd made and my flushed cheeks and we had a perfect misunderstanding.

Andrea's face was a picture. She was trying desperately not to laugh, she knew as well as I did what Roy would be thinking. I straightened my skirt, only adding to the laughter Andrea had to hide. I chuckled, sitting back in my chair once more as I got a text, again from the girl sitting next to me.

_Stop thinking about my fingers. A._

This woman would be the death of me.

**Hellooooooooo. How is everybody? Not thrilled about this chapters existence but I refuse to re-write it again. I hope you enjoy it and don't hate me for being annoying :D I want to Thank everybody for the feedback I've been getting. You're all really helping and bringing smiles to my face :3 Reviews make cookies appear in your hand. I'm not lying. You should try. XXXXXX**


	16. Chapter 16

**5:30pm**

We'd arrived at the hotel half an hour ago. Everybody's bags had been dragged to their rooms after a day of sitting stiffly in a vehicle. After being caught by Roy _seemingly _doing something we shouldn't have been doing in the back of the car we'd both silently decided to cool down. We both sat in silence before, not too long into the car ride, Andrea started making rather impressive snoring noises. I couldn't help smirking at the image in front of me.

Now, I sat myself down on my bed, gazing around the room as if asking myself if I should or not do it. I wanted rid of him, Stephen, but when I had rid of him what would I do?

Pushing all negative ideas about it aside, I reached into my pocket and got my cell phone, texting Andrea. I asked her simply as she was the only one I trusted with something like this. Within minutes I heard a knock at the door connecting our rooms. I called that it was unlocked and then smiled when the woman, without shoes or stockings, came scurrying in. She wrapped her jumper around her tightly, stretching the fabric slightly.

"You alright?" She asked, voice shallow, as if whispering.

I nodded, a sort of reflex I'd acquired when asked that question. "I need to you to do something for me." She nodded, more than likely not expecting what I was about to say. "I need you to organise everything in this divorce. I understand that it is a huge responsibility and I should be the one doing it as it is my marriage but I trust you, Andrea. I've never been able to say that to someone who I have not been intimate with or given birth to so please don't misuse this trust. If you phone Paula and Lesley they will give you all the details you need for divorce lawyers and papers and such that you will need. They will guide you in everything you have to do and when you have to do it." Andrea's face had turned from warm and fresh to pale and baffled. "You have the right to decline, of course, I am not forcing you to take this into your hands but I would feel grateful if it was you taking care of the matter and not Emily."

"M-Miranda…" She stuttered.

"I'm more than sure Stephen will give consent for the divorce to happen instead of battling black and blue for it to be called off." I shrugged, moving my fingers to play with my wedding band, pulling it from my hand and holding it in my palm. This wasn't mine anymore. "I also want something mentioned to Paula about the rest of Stephens belongings being sent to him before the divorce goes underway, I don't need the added stress of him and I discussing lampshades and pillowcases." I held my hand out, ring in between two fingers for Andrea to take. With sheepish hands, she took the ring from me and held it as I had. "This can go in the same envelope as the divorce papers." I let my fingers dance over the bare skin of my fourth finger, ring-less. Sighing, I went to stand. My legs felt weak but I forced myself to stand. I had to push the weak side of myself away. I couldn't be that woman anymore. I needed to be strong through this. I could not break. I would not break.

"Miranda?" She whispered as I went to walk into the bathroom. I stopped in my tracks, turning my head back slightly. "Are you sure you want this?"

"I'm sure. I can't be attached to him anymore, Andrea." I saw her nodding through the corner of my eyes. "That's all."

**9:34pm**

I stepped into the hotel bars chatter. Voices were being thrown gently over one another as conversation bubbled around me. The _Runway Party, _as Emily had nicely named us, had hired the bar area for the evening yet it was under strict surveillance that not too much alcohol would be consumed. I chose a quiet table in the corner, nobody occupying it, to sit at. The lighting was charming, dim and dark but warm and humble. It gave the entire room, with its wall of antique books and golden features, a library feel and I adored it. As I sat down on the small, chocolate sofa the leather gave slightly under my weight. I sighed, content. Surrounding myself with the people that wanted business to remain business was helping my mood to stay positive. I wasn't getting the opportunity to think about anything other than work and I appreciated it.

After a while of sitting by myself, a shadow passed over my face, making me look up. Andrea stood over me, placing something on the table before sitting next to me. She leaned into my body momentarily, whispering lightly.

"I brought you a tea." I raised my eyebrow, why was it not a coffee? She chuckled lightly, noticing the expression on my face. "I know you, Miranda. That and I knocked over a jar at the town house labelled coffee and it was full to the brim of tea bags. Clever, Miranda, clever." She leant back, bringing a wine glass that seemed to turn up out of nowhere to her lips. They stained, rouge lips kissing the rim of the glass as she sat the glass down next to me tea. I couldn't take my eyes off of those set of lips. What would that lipstick look like on my lips? What would it feel like on my skin?

"Thank you." I whispered, my voice more hoarse than I was expecting. I cleared my throat, an attempt to get rid of the sudden solidness that had formed in the way I spoke. I picked the tea up, holding the cup handle daintily and bringing the cup to my lips. I could sense her looking at me but I didn't know if it was just self-consciousness kicking in. Confirming my thoughts, as I set the hot tea back down in its saucer and sat back in the chair, Andrea's eyes were gazing in the direction of my neck and shoulders. As if noticing that I was looking at her, she averted her eyes to mine and smiled cockily, bringing a confident smile of my own.

"So," she shifted away slightly, letting her eyes take more of me in. "You're setting yourself free." As her eyebrows rose dramatically, making her eyes more creepy than arousing, I decided to pin that she was drunk.

"I like to think of that way, yes." I nodded slightly, hiding my humour to this side of Andrea. So much for not having too much alcohol. I wasn't angry or annoyed. I knew that Andrea would wake in the morning and hide the ripping headache she would definitely have and she'd do it with style and grace until she was away from me and she would treat herself so a handful of pain killers. I knew Andrea and I knew her without having to knock over any coffee jars.

"I can't wait until that happens." She began nodding enthusiastically, eyes still open wide. Her tone of voice made me smile and roll my eyes before taking my tea in my hand once more. I sipped it slowly, getting used to the intense heat trying to burn my tongue.

Half an hour soon passed, both of us throwing useless yet entertaining conversation at each other and somewhere along the line Andrea had moved her body to face me, twisting her torso awkwardly and looping her elbow over the back of the chair. I'd also turned slightly to face her, sitting into the angle she sat in. I knew how this would look to an onlooker, but quite frankly I didn't care. Being this close to Andrea in public was addicting. Every now and then her fingers would skim the skin of the back of my neck. This was dangerous. I could feel every nerve in my body. They were on fire. Burning. Scorching. But the sweet torture was hypnotising. It was a simple touch but it was affecting me in a way that made me want to drag the drunk and dis-shelved woman to my hotel room and have my way all night long.

Miranda, you are not even divorced yet and you are interested in somebody else.

I scolded myself. I needed to stop thinking about Andrea this way. It needed to stop.

Then, Andrea grabbed my tea cup from me. My eyes widened. How dare she? She pulled the tea cup to her lips, gulping the remains of the cup until it was all gone. She let the cup thud back into its saucer. My eyes were wide. Nobody had ever, ever, done something like that to me. I didn't even know how to comprehend it. "Andrea," I said calmly. "Why did you just drink my tea?" I peered into the cup, looking at it in disgust. Yes, utterly empty. I sat back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other then I peered at the devilishly gorgeous girl with one raised eyebrow. She was a classy drunk, alluring. Usually if a colleague got drunk I'd call someone over and make sure that they got escorted out and not be invited to any further events. Andrea, unlike others, would get a seat next to me at every event in the future. There she sat, legs crossed, peering at me through half lidded eyes, a dark expression on her face that seemed somehow messy yet elegant at the same time.

"Come on." She grabbed my hand just as suddenly as she had grabbed my tea cup and pulled me to stand. What was happening? I was being tugged through a crowd of people towards the door. So many eyes were staring, giving that I was being pulled out of the room physically by an assistant and that wasn't something that happened very often, I understood why all eyes were on us.

"Andrea," I tried to whisper over the crowd, not wanting to raise my voice and receive any more attention. "Andrea, where are we going?" I got ignored. I started looking around the people cluttered room, searching to make sure that nobody important had seen. From what I could see, nobody that I had a high enough opinion of could see. They were all just models and assistants, nobody that I would give a second glance to.

Andrea pulled me into an elevator then waited for the doors to close. She pressed our floor number and then, before I could say anything, I was pinned up against the wall. Her lips seemed everywhere at once but they were pressed firmly against mine. The elevator hand rail was sticking into my back; Andrea used this to her advantage. She pushed me up so I had my buttocks firmly pressed on top of it. I could not do this but I also could not push her away. I wanted this and I wanted it now. I wanted to claw at her clothes, get rid of the wretched items and have them strewn all over the elevator floor. I wanted my nails marks in her back. I wanted her gasping because of everything and anything I was doing to her. I wanted for both of us to end up panting. I wanted it quick and I wanted it intense.

Then the elevator begun to slow, and Andrea pulled away. There I was, pressed up against the elevator wall practically gasping for it. Andrea, completely composed, strutted through the open elevator doors. She was drunk. How was she so composed while I was here almost fighting for my life? I made myself get down from the small ledge, almost tripping as my heels didn't hit the floor quite right. I hurried out of the door, trying not to get crushed as they began to close again.

"Andrea?" My voice shook, "Andrea, what are we doing?" Andrea was fiddling with the room card to the door of my room. Wait, that had been in my pocket. God, this girl was sneaky.

I pushed myself in front of her, making myself the only thing between her and the door. She used this to her advantage, dropping the key to the floor and pushing my back deliciously up against the hard wood. I gasped, not expecting the fingers that moved onto my hips, clutching onto my flesh and pulling me closer. We couldn't do this here. We couldn't do this at all. She was drunk.

"Andrea," I mumbled, her lips coming dangerously close to mine. "You are intoxicated."

Andrea just groaned, moving in closer. She captured my lips once more, pulling the last drop of restraint from my system. My arms moved up and draped around her neck, my attempt at bringing her body closer. This was addicting, electric. I would never get used to kissing this woman. The way her lips moved against mine, with mine, for mine, was like sweet poison. I craved her. I needed her badly. I felt need worse than I had ever felt it in my entire life. Anything I'd felt before now seemed a lie. I'd now been shown the truth of this woman and I never wanted anything less.

I was getting too drawn in. We were still in the middle of the corridor and I was threatening to tug off the woman's clothes and do her on the floor.

Something pulled me from the haze I was getting lost in. The elevator bell. It had arrived at this floor. I forced myself to push the magnificent body away from mine, hating the sudden chill that shivered down my front. I wiped my fingers down the corner of my lips, praying that my make-up was still intact. I went to turn to Andrea, ask her opinion, but I just didn't trust myself to look at those plump and flushed lips.

I heard the doors open slowly, giggling suddenly erupting into the corridor. My head automatically turned to look at the two people, Nigel and Serena, as they announced their presence.

"Is everything alright?" Nigel suddenly stopped giggling, the smile still plastered on his face, but perfectly serious eyes.

I nodded. "That's all."

Nigels eyes widened, averting their gaze to Andrea. She looked drunk. I could only imagine what was going through Nigels head. _Why was I tolerating a drunken assistant? Why was she not fired for going against everything that had been said?_ Or maybe even _why is Miranda's hair a complete mess? Why is Miranda's make up smudged all around her lips? _There could be several possibilities, but I wasn't hanging around to find out what they were. I turned on my heels, not bothering to bid good night to anybody, before picking up the key, opening the door and locking myself inside. I pressed myself up against the door, eager to hear what was being said.

"Are you okay, Andrea?"

Silence.

"Are you sure?"

Silence. Was she nodding?

"I'll get you back to your room. Serena, here's the key, let me in when I knock. I'll be five minutes."

When I heard the door of the room next to mine, Andrea's, close I pressed my back against the door. I breathed out dramatically. Woah. That had been too close for comfort. That could have ended terribly so why was I craving more? Why was the idea of going through the door that connected our rooms, pushing her into the bed and using my mouth to make her sweat, pant, and scream so appealing?

I pushed myself from the door, removing my heels and tossing them to the corner. What was I going to do now? My body was on fire, inside and out. After getting myself ready for bed, I let myself slip into the sheets. My body was sensitive. Too sensitive for me not to remember being pushed up against the door and having Andrea's mouth on mine. It was too sensitive to not remember her eagerness to get me out of that room and completely take my breath away against the elevator wall.

I hadn't registered what I was doing, but slowly my hand was creeping lower against my skin. My hand, Andrea's hand, they were one. Andrea was whispering in my ear. She was whispering sweet nothings, words of encouragement. She pressed her fingers against me and I couldn't help but gasp. My fingers, Andrea's fingers, pushed inside of the small silk barrier. My fingers grazed my clit, causing me to bite my bottom lip, stopping myself from crying out. _Don't let anybody hear you, _she whispered, _you're mine. _My fingers quickened their speed, circling the small bundle of nerves with an increasing pace. My hips were bucking against my fingers, Andrea's fingers, needing a higher pressure, needing release.

My other hand, it could have been Andrea's, came up and covered my mouth. _Don't make a sound. _My fingers pushed lower, daring themselves to go inside but it was too late. I could feel my stomach knotting up. I could feel the waves of hot bliss begin to roll and crumble inside of me. _You're mine. _My fingers, Andrea's fingers, moved back to my clit. They used an almost urgent speed, spiralling me towards release. The pressure was delicious.

I cried into my hand, finger nails scratching my face slightly as I pleaded with myself not to make a noise, not to force the pleasure running through my veins to stop. _How does it feel? _Fucking glorious. My back arched, leaning my hips into my hands easier. I was panting. I needed this feeling to explode. I needed to be blinded by the electricity and I needed it now. _Let go, Miranda. _And I did.

White fire shot from inside me to every nerve in my body. I could feel myself pulsing, contracting around a sweet bliss. My groans had turned almost feral and I was no longer confident that I was confining them to this room alone. Each wave took it's time, burning softly inside of my system.

Then, all was calm. I pulled my hand from inside the silk and felt myself being pulled into a dark and blissful slumber.

**Well, dudes, masturbating Miranda. That is one for everyone's books. It should be in everyone's books. It should. Don't argue with me.**

**Okay, so many people have been complaining that I haven't given out any cookies as I do promise them with every review. I am very very sorry to disappoint you all. I promise that you will get them this time. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it :3 Ahaaha, no but seriously. Thank ALL OF YOU beautiful people for the support and the reviews and the smiles that you give me constantly. It means so much. REVIEW FOR COOKIES.**


	17. Chapter 17

**8:00am**

I stepped out of the elevator and walked briskly towards the breakfast hall. I was intending to have a slice of toast, maybe even a croissant, and return to my room. If this happened it would leave the staff with an hour extra to prepare before I arrived at the shoot. I was usually early but best to keep them on their toes; I wouldn't want to become predictable. As soon as my foot crossed the entrance to the breakfast hall Nigel was on me like a leech.

"Have you seen Andrea?" The name sent shivers down my spine. I shook my head softly in the negative, walking passed Nigel as if I hadn't seen him. "It's just she hasn't been answering her phone and you have the room right next to hers." He received no reaction. "Miranda, is she okay?"

I rolled my eyes as I walked past the queue for the hot food. I stuck my arm in between two guests, both giving me a disgusted look but a look of my own cut them down to size. I took a warm piece of toast and tore the corner off, popping it into my mouth. Nigel hadn't given in. He was looking at me, bewildered as to why I had not yet answered him. Slightly annoyed, I shrugged, maybe over-exaggerating slightly, before chewing my toast. "Get on with your job. Andrea is a big girl now; she doesn't need someone running after her to make sure she made the bed."

Nigel looked quite taken aback. I never usually spoke to Nigel as if to belittle him. He was and has been my best friend for over seven years. He was the person I most respected in the Runway building, and I never belittled those that I respected but right now he was driving me insane. I didn't know where the girl was, yes I cared, but while Andrea was not at my side my desires were under control.

He nodded politely and turned to leave. I took one last mouthful of crispy bread before throwing the left overs to the bin. I didn't like working on a full stomach. Working on not much also increased my appetite for an evening meal which, while staying at such a nice hotel, I would take full advantage of.

Abandoning my plan to be fashionably late to the shoot, I strutted out of the food hall and returned to my room. I was curious to whether Andrea was still tucked up in bed, hangover of the year boiling in her head, but I had to get to work. When my black trench coat was thrown casually over my shoulder and my sun glasses were placed gently on my face, I left my room and made my way to the lobby. When I was there, I was amazed to find a car waiting outside for me with Nigel standing by the door.

Pushing the glass revolving doors around, I found that the air outside was wonderfully brisk. Something that many other photographers and editors did not like was cold weather. The appearance of smooth skin was ruined by it, leaving tense and frigid models. I, on the other hand, adored the cold weather. I never ever forced models to be under-dressed or to leave an inappropriate amount of flesh on show. It wasn't attractive in my opinion. What I did enjoy, on the other hand, was goose bumps rolling elegantly down a models arm or thighs. The weather was perfect today to capture vulnerability but also the harshness that was given in the posture of the models.

"Ready?" Nigel spoke, clearing his throat and opening the car door. I nodded, not bothering to ask why he was my driver today, and set myself peacefully against the cream leather. I placed my coat on my lap and my sun glasses on the dash board in front of me as Nigel hurried around the front of the vehicle. As he sat himself down in the driver's seat, the car shook gently. "Where to, Ma'am?" I couldn't help it, a smile crossing my face.

"Just drive." I heard him chuckle before turning to the wheel and starting the engine. This would be a busy day.

**8:20am**

As we pulled up to the shoot, I saw her. Andrea was standing behind around 7 models, adjusting one of the female's jackets while holding a clip board under her arm. I saw her signal for the model to move as she moved to the next one, straightening her shoulders before again, telling her to go. "There she is." I mumbled, gathering my coat and placing my glasses once again on my face. I wasn't sure whether Nigel was looking at me or not, eyeing my reaction as my eyes clocked on Andrea, but I ignored my mind and stepped out of the car. I placed my hand in my pocket and began strutting towards my assistant.

"Miranda, did you sleep well?" She had unmistakable dark circles. I forced myself not to comment on the hangover she must be holding behind those chocolate eyes and nodded. I'd slept wonderfully after I had, single handily- no pun intended- relieved myself of the tension building up inside myself. Smoothly, I swept my coat onto my small frame and buckled the belt up around my waist. Nodding, I raised my chin and walked passed my assistant, knowing that she would follow.

"How close are we to getting started?" I cleared my throat, "I presumed we'd be started by now." I swallowed. I was all too aware of her presence, that her amazing body was following me as I walked sassily through the crowd of models and makeup artists and on hand tailors.

"We're starting in two minutes. I thought you'd want to be here to see the first shot." I stopped suddenly, turning to look at her. She was right. Although I never really showed up early I always adored watching a shoot begin. The first shot always ended up being my favourite, no matter what; the first always seemed the most natural and intense. I nodded, accepting that Andrea somehow knew me better than I knew myself. It was an odd thought and scarily easier to accept than it should have been.

Twenty minutes later and I had adjusted around three models makeup due to the makeup artists not doing what we had paid them for, had sent two models home for simply not having the right face I wanted and had changed the outfits of four of the models. Everything was just in a complete shambles and I was on the verge of blowing. I'd never felt so irritated. I wasn't angry, far from it, but irritation level was boiling over. It was only when, in the middle of a small crowd, I heard a makeup artist complain that the shadow was not pigmented enough did I snap.

"Andrea, do we have a megaphone on site?" I clenched my knuckles, rubbing them against my chin lightly. I didn't look her in the eye, just smiled falsely at the artist that had caused the bad mood to become unbearable. When I looked back at Andrea her eyes were wide.

"Woah, okay." She knew what this meant. I was not happy. She scurried off, leaving me standing in the one position for a couple of minutes. Models and photographers circled me, taken aback by the smile that had now vanished. It was evident in the way I simply stood that I was about to go crazy. Seconds later, Andrea placed a megaphone in my hand. I nodded, thanking her silently before strutting through the crowd to stand in the centre of the absolute disaster.

I held the megaphone up into the air, holding the button down, letting nothing but the wind flow through. The noise, sharp and piercing, produced a hiss of pain from everybody around me before a wonderful silence as everybody realised the noise was in fact coming from me. I threw the megaphone to the floor, no longer requiring it.

"Now," I spoke loud enough for everybody to hear but quiet enough for people to know I was not joking around. "I don't wish to treat you like children but this shoot is awful, unimaginative. It's like bad literature." I rolled my eyes, taking my glasses off daintily, lowering my voice once again. "Anyway," I pushed myself back into the topic in hand. "If you all don't have the shoot underway within ten minutes, I want models looking pristine and not raunchy, then we will a problem." I pursed my lips, expecting for everybody to leap into action but nobody moved. Models looked at each other, knowing that if they didn't move now I would have something to say, but following the example of the photographers and makeup artists but simply standing still and staring at me. "That's all" I practically whispered. Suddenly, every person surrounding me was in motion. People were bumping into each other, shouting from one side of the crowd to the other before fanning out and actually doing their job.

When I reached Andrea, handed her the megaphone, she blew out through her lips dramatically. I glared at her, a look I hadn't given the young girl since she had used to the word "stuff" in my presence. "Is everything alright, Andrea?" My voice was deep, gravelly, on the verge of giving in from annoyance.

Andrea's eyes widened and she began shaking her head dangerously fast. "No, no, everything is great. That was just really impressive." I raised an eyebrow. Impressive? I shook my head, not even surprised that Andrea could make such a comment seem quite flattering. Trying my complete hardest to not let my smirk show, I turned on my heels and strutted into the crowd, failing to notice Andrea fanning herself with her clip board.

**8:56pm**

The shoot had begun exceptionally well. We had thirteen usable shots and many candid shots of the models. It had gone successfully. After the day planned tomorrow we would have a full set of photographs. The quality of the shoot so far was comforting. It let me know that the staff I had hired was in fact competent after all.

A vast majority of the staff had returned to the hotel, leaving myself, Andrea and around 4 of the makeup artists. They were cleaning up their mess, ready to remake it the next day. I was alone and looking through the main photographers camera. The shots really were amazing, even without filter and edited lighting. I was quite excited to set these photographs inside the pages of Runway. I could already picture it and it looked fantastic.

"Hey." I lifted my head slowly. It was Andrea. I smirked. "You did really good today." I chuckled, returning my gaze to the camera. "Why are you laughing?"

"I'm not." I insisted but the smile on my face gave too much of my inner emotion away. Raising her eyebrows, she signalled by rolling her hand in the air for me to continue. "I've seen a lot of teen movies and I know that is how the conversation leading to a kiss starts." Her eyebrows lifted as she sat next to me on the production table. "I have two teenage daughters, Andrea. I know how young romance works better than you might know."

"Enlighten me." Her hands travelled underneath my forearm to tangle her fingers into mine. I thought it was a romantic move but no, she simply wanted to take the camera away from me. She flicked through the pictures quickly, nodding at her favourites. I should have taken the camera off her. Technically, only myself and the photographer were allowed to handle it but the look of amazement on her face as she found a particularly beautiful shot of two woman standing next to each other, a shimmer of beautiful light covering both of their faces, was simply too adorable to take that amazement away from her.

"Enlighten you?" She nodded. "Okay." I propped my hands underneath the bottom of my thighs, crossing my legs at the calf. "It always starts with a 'hey', without fail. They'll walk over to their interest and tell them how 'good' or 'great' they were that day. The interest will deny it, earning a more enthusiastic attempt to make the interest happy. The interest will say they have to go but the pursuer will do something drastic to annoy or grab the interest's attention. They'll end up laughing and then suddenly their faces will be inches from one another and not kissing becomes not an option." I turned to look at Andrea. "What are you doing?" I quickly moved my hand to cover the lens of the camera which was now pointing straight at me. "What're you doing?"

"Nothing." I heard the camera click, "just taking some pictures."

"Andrea, that camera," I was interrupted by a click, making me smile. "Andrea," another click. "Andr-" another click. I pulled the camera from Andrea's hands. I found the photos she had taken. They were all photos of the inside of my hand, other than one where I was mid speech and had a really attractive expression on my face. I sighed, a smile playing on my lips. I could sense Andrea's smugness, her strength being tested not to burst out laughing at that photo. I looked at her, sighing but releasing a small smile. Quickly, I deleted that photo, along with the ones of my hand, before placing it back into its case and setting it down gently on the table. "You're impossible." I giggled, not being able to help myself as she beamed a dramatic smile. I knocked her shoulder with mine, laughing even more when she did it in return. "We should go, we have work tomorrow."

"I'll walk you back." She grabbed a couple of pieces of paper and slipped them into her satchel.

"You're definitely like the typical teenage movie." I stood from the table, running my fingers through my hair and un-tucking it from my collar.

"But you predicted that we would kiss. You were wrong." She, mirroring my actions, un-tucked her hair from under her scarf and placed some leather gloves on her delicate fingers.

"You should know my now, Andrea, that I am never wrong." I crossed my arms stubbornly.

"Oh, yeah?" she cleared her throat, placing her satchel over her shoulder. "How?"

"You'll walk me to my room, there'll be an awkward moment of silence before you kiss me and wish me goodnight and disappear into your room leaving me dumbstruck and speechless in the middle of the corridor." I turned to leave, letting my hips sway more than usual. I smirked when I heard no heels clicking behind me, feeling her eyes on my body, then suddenly I heard her begin to jog gently, catching up behind me.

"That can be planned, if you like." She raised her eyebrow, clutching her satchel to her side, as if holding on for dear life.

"Oh believe me, Andrea." I cleared my throat and increased my pace, "that has been the plan since I first saw you this morning."

With that, silence and sexually frustrated smirks were all that we shared. We both walked, side my side, until we got to the hotel door. We hadn't got a car back; we'd gone by foot as the night was beautiful, cool and wonderfully lit. Washington DC was truly stunning. In my opinion, it gave Paris a run for its money but Paris was one of those cities that did seem like a new experience with every visit. It was simply define there, but Washington was also something to behold.

Andrea held the door of the hotel open for me, the bell man nodding and welcoming us back. As soon as I stepped into the lobby of the hotel, I was swarmed with people. From the paparazzi we lacked-from strict orders to the police and security, we made up for in stressed staff members. I didn't answer one of them. I had questions flying at me, when the shoot tomorrow would start, when I would publish the photographs for the other staff to see, how I thought the shoot went today. All questions were from staff that did not work within the wondrous walls of Runway, it was obvious. Did they not know the rule?

Then, Nigel appeared. He handed me a timetable for the next day, which I read through while walking. We were followed by the staff until me, Andrea and Nigel stepped into the elevator. Content with the plans set for the day following, I handed them back and sniffed. Not one word was spoken, a comfortable silence ringing in our ears.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened slowly, almost dramatically. We all stepped out, me in the lead of course. Nigel wandered off to his room, waving from behind as a farewell until tomorrow. And then there we stood.

"Goodnight, Andrea." I whispered, not registering how sexual my voice would sound as I practically purred to her. I turned devilishly to my room, beginning to open the door but Andrea, thank God, had different plans.

"Oh, no." She grabbed the back of my coat, tugging me backwards and spinning me around. My smile would have been physically painful if it would have been any bigger.

" Is there a problem?" I whispered. I admit, I was looking at her lips. This craving was getting too much but I relished in it.

"No, no problem." Her soft fingers travelled up my neck, dancing against my senses. I felt my breathing hitch, it increased drastically by that move alone. Her fingertips scolded my skin, a heat too strong and too addicting to ever get used to. I felt goose bumps arise on my skin, prickling from my jaw to my breast. I'd never been this responsive to such an innocent touch. "But of course," she whispered, bringing her lips milometers from mine. I could feel the air practically skim against mine as she spoke. "If you want to go to bed, I'd completely understand." I shook my head lightly. I didn't want to go to bed. Not to sleep, not to get away from Andrea. I couldn't leave now.

"Just-" I couldn't speak. Words were not something I could use right now. I was panting. One touch and I was panting. "Ju-" I swallowed, running my hands up the front of her body and holding desperately onto her collar. I wanted her skin on mine. I needed her lips on mine. I needed her. I needed her to kiss me. I was trying to beg her to kiss me. But I couldn't.

"What do you want?" She moved her face into mine, brushing her nose down my jaw bone. I felt her lips press gently but definitely against the centre of my neck. My breath caught in my throat. This was intoxicating. How was I not pulling her into my room? How was I not able to move and get what I wanted? "Tell me, Miranda." I couldn't. Not that I didn't want to, I just couldn't. I physically could not tell her that I wanted, more than anything, for her to push me into my room. I wanted for her to take me. We didn't know each other but we knew so much. I knew that what I wanted was for her to lay me down and just take what she wanted, give me everything.

"I…" I stuttered. She kissed her way back up my neck. "Oh, Andrea." My voice was throaty. It was a deep groan, it came from inside.

"Miranda, I can't ask again." She whispered, nibbling my eat gently.

"Just," I gasped, "just kiss me."

And that kiss was the, single-handedly, most arousing kiss I have ever shared with another human being. Holding back the desire of a lifetime was not proving to be easy as I tugged the young girl, my back pressed against the door. Andrea had no objections as she, dominance shining through, twisted the door handle and took my hand before leading me into my own room.

**Hey lovelieeesssss :3 How is everyone? So, I am mid exams, sigh, and mid applying for a new job but I am planning for the chapters after this to be much much longer as I do have a lot more planned yey :) **

**Reviews would be lovely and I will give you brownies and orange juice and 30 seconds with Miranda herself ;) Thank you thank you thank you for reaching 100+ reviews. I never expected that to happen. Woah. You guys are amazing. Thank you so much.**


	18. Chapter 18

**9:14pm**

As Andrea led me into my room, many thoughts flashed through my mind. I couldn't speak on what I was thinking, in fear of appearing weak and unprepared, but I was screaming for this voice to be heard. Her fingers were entwined with mine; I peered at them gently as I followed her. The heat, even when my body was not fully pressed against the young girl, was blinding. I was no longer panting but I could tell within minutes that I would be.

I was tugged to stand in front of the bed. My heart was beating. I couldn't ignore the nerves any longer. Her lips found their place once more against mine, but I felt stiff. I told myself to melt into her touch how I had seconds before, but I couldn't. What if I wasn't good enough for her? What if I ruined expectations?

"Miranda," she whispered against my mouth. I clenched my eyes together, scared to find her looking back at me in disappointment. "Is everything okay?" She whispered again, kissing my jawline, allowing me a moment to speak.

"Yes, I just…" I couldn't say it. She was getting all of this passion so naturally, she obviously knew what she was doing. My 'passion' was complete instinct and I was questioning my instinct. I wanted to hide, burry my face within her shoulder and just hide. This was so humiliating. I hadn't thought this would happen. I was very aware I'd never slept with another woman but I didn't ever plan on the thought appearing when I was potentially moments away from the deed.

"What is it?" She kissed under my ear, before too, going stiff. She pulled back and looked me in the eye. "Miranda, we don't have to do this. I'm not forcing you. You can say no and I'll go back to my room and this will not be mentioned again." Her hands travelled to my arms, rubbing comforting circles against them but it only increased how badly I wanted her and how insecure I felt about the burning need I felt inside. "Miranda, talk to me."

"Andrea, I have something to say." I whispered. I was embarrassed, to say the least. She nodded, an indication for me to continue. "I've never been involved, sexually, with another woman." The words flew out of my mouth as quickly as I'd thought them. I winced, my neck tensing as I waiting for a reply from the young girl.

"Miranda, neither have I." She smiled, glancing at my lips for a second before practically looking into my soul. Her eyes bore into mine, a connection I had never shared before through a simple look. "If you want, and only if you want, we can search this together." She smirked, the smirk of my dreams and fantasies, before adding. "I, for one, am all for discovering our desires together."

My hand moved to her face, I felt my bottom lip shake as my palm cupped her cheek. Her heat was radiant. Her skin burnt my hand. I adored this woman. I simply adored, lusted, cared for this woman. I needed her in every sense of the word need. I needed her to be there when I woke up, whether it be a simple text message or whether it be a warm smile and a cup of coffee. I needed her for support, whether it be on an opinion or it be in a time of need where I am breaking. I needed her now, whether it was to simply kiss my cheek of take me completely. I needed her; that I could not ignore.

"So, what do you say?" She leant her face into my hand, her eyes sparkling with hope. I nodded, a silent acceptance to what was about to happen.

Again, just like before, she kissed me. How did this kiss feel so new? I wrapped my small and shaking arms around her neck, pulling her lips and body closer to mine. I was burning. She was burning me. I needed this. I sighed into her mouth, sighed into her touch that I wasn't yet getting enough of. I wanted her hands under my shirt, her stomach against mine, her thighs wrapped around my waist. I felt addicted but I hadn't yet been injected. I needed her. I was addicted to the thought of having her and oh, I would have her.

As if by magic, I felt her fingertips edge underneath my shirt. I gasped against her lips, not expecting a woman holding such heat to have such cold and fragile fingertips. Her hands, slowly and daintily, held onto my hips. She drew me closer, both of us seemingly asking for the passion to be taken to the next level but not being able to verbalise it. Her smooth hands travelled up the slopes of my back, her nails dug slightly into my shoulder blades as her fingers stumbled upon the fabric of my beloved La Perla.

I felt her teeth nibble my bottom lip gently, earning a breathy gasp from within my chest. She drew her face away from mine, not letting my lip fall from her teeth until she was looking me in the eyes.

"Lie down for me." She whispered. I felt tingles run up my spine at how erotic her voice alone sounded. I was so on edge. I was standing at the top of a cliff, Andrea threatening to push me into sweet bliss. I wished that she'd do it faster but at the same time adoring the fact she was dragging out the moment. I stumbled backwards, not aware of my own body. Andrea stepped forward, following me as I edged closer to the soft sheets. The back of my knees hit the bed gently. I made sure not to fall inelegantly backwards as I pressed my fingertips against the mattress and lowered the rest of my body daintily against the bed.

I felt so insecure. I lifted my arms above my head, at both an attempt to appear attractive and an attempt to pull myself further up along the bed. Andrea, her eyes dark and yet completely soft, filled with adoration, looked down. She took at my body. Her eyes travelled first from my feet, clad in plat formed Louboutins and black stocking. They roamed up my legs, staying maybe a moment too long on my thighs and hips but it only added to the emotions I felt inside, seeing her eyes so intoxicated by what they were taking in. They appeared raw, as if attempting to take in everything that they could. I had never felt so admired by anybody. Nobody, not one person, had ever ignited such a fire deep within my stomach. Not one of my husbands had ever looked at me with such arousal coating every feature on their face.

Her eyes didn't stop there; they continued their journey up my body. They landed on my stomach, causing butterflies. They moved to my breasts. I reddened. I could feel the blush creeping devilishly up my neck but I didn't care. I ignored the sudden embarrassment I felt at being so consumed by another. She let her knuckles rest against the bed, either side of my hips and adjusted her weight onto them. She finally moved her eyes up to look into mine. She lowered her face, kissing my neck gently. I shivered. Upon hearing this, I felt the lips against my neck curve. Her lips met mine in a passionate embrace. Fire and diamonds shattered behind closed eye lids as her weight finally lowered itself on top of me. Her legs tangled in-between mine, feet battling with themselves to remove shoes, just increasing the friction and passion being created.

"Miranda." She whispered against my lips. Her hands shakily pushed my shirt up along my stomach. When the thin fabric reached the curve of my breasts, she paused. The weight of her body vanished as she lifted herself up to admire her handy work. I was panting. Her lips touched my belly gently. I gasped, not being able to control my breathing pattern; this was a natural and involuntary reflex. Her fingers fumbled against the bottom of my shirt, bunched up around my breasts. I lifted myself slightly, allowing her to pull it over my head. I rested myself back into the bed, not sure whether to hide away or beam into the attention the young girl was giving me.

I was no younger in my prime. I had aged. I didn't have flawless skin. I had stretch marks from having the twins, yes they had faded but they were still visible. I had a handful of different scars, all caused by different events. I wasn't perfect. I wasn't a style icon without my clothes. I was vulnerable. I was human.

Nevertheless, Andrea's eyes widened. Whether it was the sight of me panting or the sight of an old woman attempting to lower her age, I did not know, but the look in her eyes was electric. They were gleaming. Two chocolate temptations peering at my skin as it prickled, goose bumps arising in excitement. She lowered her face to my stomach, parted lips kissing just above the waist of my trousers. Nimble fingers traced down my rib cage and began fumbling with the front of my clothes. Once they managed to open up the front of the offending garment, they tugged down both stockings and slacks.

There I lay, open to my assistant. I wore only lingerie, black. Once more, she admired my skin, my body, my everything. Her weight appeared once again on top of my own. Her lips ghosted against mine.

"You can tell me to stop" she breathed, her lips not connecting with mine but touching smoothly.

"I know," I smirked, stealing a gentle kiss, "I just don't want you to." Her hands, strong and pure, lifted my back from the bed. They fumbled with the back of my La Perla bra. I swallowed, clutching onto her shoulders. The fabric, once tight around my shoulders loosened. I breathed in through my nose, not sure how to handle the situation.

"It's okay." She mumbled into my ear. While kissing my neck, a distraction, she tugged the bra tenderly down my arms before gently tossing it aside. I hadn't even noticed it had vanished until I felt small hands suddenly running over them and down my sides. I tensed, not out of nerves, but out of my senses becoming too much to handle. She kissed my collar bones, slowly moving her way down to my breasts where she planted one small, yet definite, kiss in-between both breasts before lifting her face up and, for the first time, taking in more of me than she ever had before. "Woah" she breathed. Her fingers, curiosity shining through, snaked gently up my stomach to lightly brush against rippled skin. I hissed, my head falling back slightly as the first touch of ultimate intimacy was reached. She rolled my nipple in-between her fingers, her lips parted and eyes wide. The look on her face alone sent waves of an emotion flowing to my core, let alone the tender touches she was giving me. "You're beautiful."

I brought my hands from lying above my head to run up her fully clothed shoulders. My nails scratched her clothes gently, fully aware that I was the only one unclothed at all. The thought vanished as Andrea began fiddling with the line of my panties. My skin was so sensitive, every touch was infectious. Her first finger hooked under the elastic and tugged it slowly down my thighs. I shivered, a sudden lack of heat shocking me. The panties, along with bra, went to an unknown location in the room.

A realisation of the fact I was now completely naked in front of my assistant flashed through my mind. I folded into myself, my head looking down at my all too naked body as I pushed myself into the bed. She didn't like what she saw. I knew she didn't. She was just looking at me. I covered my eyes with my hair, turning my face to my right. I felt her hands glide up my sides, causing nerves to dance under my skin. Her lips found their place next to my ear as she whispered, "Miranda, relax," she bit my ear lobe gently; "you're beautiful."

I shuddered, not sure what I was enjoying the most; the ultimate attention of a young girl I had lusted without realisation for so long or feeling the heat of her clothes burning into my bare skin. I was so close to paradise and it hurt. I needed this.

Her hands, strong and yet surprisingly small, sat on my thighs. While tracing my jawline with her nose she pushed my legs open slightly, enough for her to be able to set her body in-between comfortably. Subconsciously, the move triggering inner-confidence, I wrapped my thighs around her waist. I attempted to pull her body closer, not being able to get enough of the sweet weight I felt on top of my body.

"Are you sure about wanting this?" She asked. I could only nod. It was enough approval for Andrea's hand to, once again, slide over my breasts and down my rib cage. She unhooked my legs from around her waist and let them lay on the bed naturally. She removed her weight from on top of me but did not remove herself. She lay to my right, half of her body touching the bed and half of it gently resting against my side. Her leg was wrapped in-between mine and her shoulder underneath my arm. I felt utter connection, brutal and so real. She ran her hand over my flat stomach, ever so slowly creating an obvious path to where she wanted to touch.

Her fingertip circled my navel, drawing a small sigh from my lips, before continuing their path south. As her finger tips, ever so lightly, traced my clit I gasped. I felt shot of electric and passion being sent up my spine. This was too intimate. She continued her ministrations, circling and dancing over my clit with her cold fingertips, as I arched my back. I clutched onto the pillow just above my head, giving me something to concentrate on as Andrea worked me into frenzy. A second finger was placed directly onto my clit and the circles doubled in speed. I couldn't hold it back. A shaky and extremely breathy moan of pleasure was sounded to the room. It spurred Andrea on, her teeth latched onto the bottom of my ear as her fingers continued to work their magic.

After a moment or two, she changed speed. First, she decreased her speed, cooling my body down from the fire that she had started before cruelly setting a fast pace again. My body couldn't keep up. My entire body arched, what it arched into I was not sure, but my thigh thudded into something, causing Andrea to give her own lust filled sigh. Andrea slowly circled her fingers lower and lower. I could feel the white fire increasing, threatening to explode into a fit of no self-control. Andrea, slight nerves shining through, pushed a finger inside of me.

The arm around her shoulders gripped tightly onto her, bringing her body in desperately to touch mine. My neck was tensing as I adjusted to the sudden stretching within. I closed my mouth, my eyes fluttering shut, and simply groaned. My chest rose and fell as Andrea slowly began to move that one finger. She was being gentle and I appreciated it, but as soon as I had gotten used to this feeling a second finger threatened to make itself known. I felt it push its way inside of me, once again, giving me something to battle. I was seeing stars. Hot ice was flashing behind closed eyelids as I felt the webbing between Andrea's fingers hit the inside of my thighs. I couldn't hold it back anymore. Every feeling and nerve ending was screaming to be released. All that I could do was moan, messily, into the room around us.

Andrea slowly moved her fingers in and out of me. I could feel the friction building, the fire starting, the knots tangling into each other. Whatever I'd ever said before about passion and lust I take it all back. This was it. This was passion and what I felt right now, this was lust. My finger nails dug into her clothed shoulder, my other hand flying to cling onto the side of the bed. It was getting too much. Andrea's thumb had found its way to my clit as her two fingers glided their way between my legs.

"You're beautiful" she whispered in my ear. Oh God, I was so close. Her lips found their way to my neck, drawing in a small section of my skin as she un-shamefully nibbled and sucked it. It added to everything I was feeling. I was close. Oh, Jesus, I was close.

My breath was coming out in horrible gravelly pants. My hips had begun moving against Andrea's hand, not a move I had realised I was making. The tightening in my stomach was almost painful, a blissful pain that I never ever wanted to end. It was addicting. It was growing. I was close to being pushed off the edge, to diving into ecstasy and I was so high. Words were flashing in my mind, all words of pure adoration for the girl half lying on top of me. I needed her.

"Let go" She mumbled against my neck. And I did.

My muscles, I could feel them clamping around Andrea's fingers. I could feel the waves of torturous pleasure rolling through my system. I could feel Andrea's lips smiling against my neck as my back arched and my hips bucked against her fingers. I could feel the world around me get slightly less important. But all I could physically do was sound my appreciation. I moaned, first into the room, then into Andrea's mouth. She began kissing me, maybe as a move to decrease my sound, but she took the desperate and feral sounds of lust and smiled as she received them. I wrapped my arms around her neck, bringing her closer. My hips slowed with the waves before both came to a standstill. I was breathless.

"Oh my God" I whispered against her lips. The first words I'd been able to say since my shirt had been removed. I felt addicted. The entire thing was already something I couldn't wait to have again and again. I tugged her to lie completely on top of me again. I sighed, the weight somehow increasing the afterglow of what had just happened.

Andrea's lips touched my neck, reminding me I wasn't the only one here. I ran my hands up her shirt, hooking fingers her shoulder and bringing her closer to me. I kissed her lips, giving every inch of passion I felt over to her. I needed to give her what she had given me. It was a gift. Whether she felt it too, I have no idea, but I felt trust radiating from the young woman in my arms.

Gently, I shuffled myself down slightly. Andrea noticed and hitched her weight onto her arms which now rested either side of my head. I stopped fidgeting when my face was in line with neck, perfect for me to place perfect and soft kisses against the perfect and soft skin. I began to run my fingers around her waist, her shirt had been tugged out of her skirt time at some point and creamy skin was peeking from underneath her black work clothes. My fingers rippled their way up the front of her shirt, unbuttoning the material gently. Finally, when all buttons were undone, I just gazed. I was in wonder. Her skin, how it curved and dipped in all the right places, was magnificent. I'd never been so speechless by another human form. I'd seen plenty of almost naked women, editing a fashion magazine did sometimes question your sexuality, but this was the first time I had physically been unable to breathe because of someone body.

I slipped my fingers down her stomach. She was not stick thin like many models I'd seen. Maybe that was what drew me to her but woah, she was bloody beautiful. All words seemed to vanish from my mind as my only interest became touching her. She was like warm marble. Something so perfect could not be real. I pushed the shirt from her shoulders, getting some help as she straddled my hips for a second to remove the now offending artefact of clothing. When it fell from her frame completely, I couldn't help but choke on my own breathe. She was beautiful.

She did not wear a bra, something I was thankful for. I gazed at her, top half naked and ready. She was obviously attempting to control her breathing pattern, something that fuelled my ego. I ran my fingers lightly over her shoulders, not failing to notice the slight shudder that shook down her frame. I let myself lay back again, tugging Andrea down against my body once more. Feeling her skin against mine was something that once again ignited a fire within me. Her skin rippled in goose bumps, causing a reaction in my mind that would embarrass the devil. Andrea was simply the most arousing experience I have ever been involved with. Everything about how she breathed, sighed, moved, spoke just set me on fire.

I snaked my hands down the slope of her back, appreciating the small sigh I heard in my ear. My palms cupped the cheeks of her ass, drawing her closer. Her back curved deliciously upwards, pushing her breasts into mine, sending bolts of painful bliss down both of us.

"Oh, God, Miranda." She breathed into my ear, intimate being the one word to describe how her voice sounded. I hooked my thumb into the elastic- had this girl learned nothing about fashion?- and pushed the skirt down and over her masterpiece. I felt the flesh of her ass curve under the elastic before swelling once more against my forearm as the waist band of her skirt had passed the soft mound. She gently kicked the fabric to the floor, pulling her stockings underwear with it. She crawled back up my body, kissing as she moved dangerously slow.

I pushed my hand in-between our bodies. Andrea's breathing stopped altogether as my hand moved between her thighs. The heat I found burnt me. I hissed, unable to control my own actions. I pushed my fingers gently through the sweet warmth. A sigh of complete lust left both of our mouths. I kissed her lips, swallowing her sighs of pleasure. She pulled herself further up my body, giving my hand an easier access to her centre. I let my middle finger daintily, almost sheepishly; circle her clit the way her fingers had circled mine. Her hands were cupping my face, drawing our lips closer together. Her hips were rocking lightly, not enough for the fire in her system to be something obvious but enough for me to realise I had ignited one.

I withdrew my fingers, smirking against her lips as she moaned from the loss.

"What?" I mumbled.

"You better not be planning on stopping." I let my hands move around her hips. The skin was warm and delicate. She was soft against my hand.

"You're so beautiful, Andrea." My hands travelled up her back, adoring the slight tense of muscles I felt as my hand affected her.

"Miranda," She gasped as I subconsciously began grinding my hips up against her. "Please, touch me" I smirked. God, she was beautiful. I rested my head against the pillow gently and looked up at her. Her hands were now gripping the head board of the bed, her knuckles a creamy white as her nails dug into the hard wood. Her skin was trembling, she was trembling. She was so beautiful.

I snaked my hands once more down her body and in-between her thighs. Once again, the heat was intoxicating. She almost stung me, electricity that was simply and utterly shocking. I looked up at her reaction as my fingers begun moving against her. Her head was thrown back at almost a painful angle, a silent moan being released from within her. I wanted to test her, test the alluring woman above me. I moved my fingers down, ever so slowly, watching as her mouth closed slightly and she looked down. She was watching my hands, my fingers. I pushed one finger inside of her.

If Andrea felt anywhere as close to paradise as I felt I was doing this right. She felt amazing, I was in awe. Her muscles clenched around my finger slightly as I rubbed my palm cheekily against her clit. How was pleasuring someone else as addicting as getting pleasured myself? This was something entirely new. I'd never wanted to see someone else come apart from my touch as badly as I did right then. I needed to see this girls face when the pressure became too much. I needed to hear the noises and sounds she'd make as I pushed her into an earth chattering orgasm.

I pushed another finger gently inside of her. She moaned, it was gravelly and desperate. I'd worked her up and she needed this. I moved my fingers slowly in and out of her. I felt her walls clench and stretch around my fingers as I began to set a pace. She lowered her head to rest next to mine but never lowered her arms which tensed dangerously above her head. She was wet. So wet. Feeling my fingers slide with ease in and out of her, yet still managed to cause and almost unbearable pleasure for Andrea, was something amazing.

"Oh, God" she moaned. She gave in. Her hips began rolling desperately against my hand. She straightened her back, the only skin touching mine now being the underneath of her thighs. Her hips bucked as if her life depended on it. Her eyes looked down at my hand, at her core, at how they moved together. This was magnificent. Her stomach was twitching slightly as she was rushed faster and faster to her peak. Her eyes flickered closed as I moved my thumb to her clit instead of my palm. One of her hands lowered quickly from the head board to my shoulder, her nails digging into my skin. It spurred me on, moving my fingers slightly faster than they already had been.

"Oh, fuck, oh don't stop," I'd never heard her use such language before. It sparked something inside of me. I needed to see her come, I needed to see her loose every piece of self-control she had. Her other hand moved painfully fast to grip my hips. She started clenching around my fingers. I bit my lip, preparing myself as I looked up at her face. Her eyes were screwed shut, she was panting for breathe and rocking back and forth against my hand, frantically searching for the explosion that came after the build. "Oh, please" And then she snapped.

Her back arched, her hips bucked, her voice cracked and cried and her nails dug into my skin. "Oh, Miranda" She rode out her orgasm at her own pace. I slowed my fingers, not wanting to overwhelm the girl but at the same time revelling in the reaction I had been given.

As the waves that were clenching my fingers slowed, she bent down once more, covering me with her beautiful weight. Her mouth was next to me ear. I could hear, through her breathe, how worn out she felt. She breathed heavily, now cupping my face and kissing my neck in-between pants. A couple of moments passed before one of us said anything.

"That," she swallowed, "was amazing. You've never been with another woman?"

I chuckled. "I could say the very same for you." I smiled. "You too were beautiful." She rested her forehead above my breast. "You are beautiful." Andrea smiled and looked up at me.

"Oh, shut up." She turned on her side, wrapping an arm around my middle. "You on the other hand," she looked up at me, "are the single most amazing and beautiful person I have ever seen." I rolled my eyes, but it was paired with one of the most real smiles I have ever felt upon my face. "No, seriously, Miranda." She beamed up at me, blinking. "You're stunning. No matter what you do, you're stunning." I nuzzled my face into her hair.

This was the definition of peace but it was broken as Andrea moved away. "Where are you going?" She padded silently across the room to the wardrobe, opened the door and pulled out something from the top shelf. I sat up, covering myself with my arms out of modesty. She returned, throwing the large cream blanket over us both. It would have been easier simply to get under the sheets but I was not complaining. I snuggled, yes Miranda Priestly was a snuggler, up against her. I snaked my hand across her stomach, pulling her closer to me. My eyes begun to flicker shut. I was tired, wonderfully and peacefully tired.

"Miranda," she whispered. I groaned in response. "I really love seeing you happy." I tugged her closer still, a smile dancing on my features as I buried my expression into her shoulder.

"Ah, God, Andrea." I looked up at her through my hair. "Are you serious?"

She nodded, chuckling slightly. "It's beautiful to me."

I rested my ear against her chest, a lovely silence filling the room. After a while, her breathing slowed. I looked up. She was sleeping. I smiled, my chin rested on the top of my hand. She was beautiful. The woman that, fifteen minutes before was panting and writhing above me, was now quiet and sleeping. I wanted to kiss her lips softly but didn't in fear of waking her. Instead, I rested my head back against her chest and closed my eyes too. This was some I had never realised that I wanted.

**Okay oh my god don't hate me. There are probably so so many mistakes in this and they're all my fault. I don't have a beta so mistakes are mine. I've been through it twice but I just couldn't read my own sex scene in depth without going bright red so there are probably so so many mistakes. I'm thinking about looking for a beta as it would be easier on my part so if you are interested don't stay quiet. I'd love love love for it to be a possibility. Anyway, I hope it lives up to expectations :3 I LOVE YOU ALL. Reviews would be lovely thank you :3 xxx**


	19. Chapter 19

**5:00am**

An altogether offending buzzing filled the small room around us both. I hadn't yet noticed that my arm was wrapped around the waist of someone. As the buzzing somehow got louder and more obvious, I tucked my face into the back of this someone's shoulder. I groaned, physically and mentally unsure of how I was going to drag myself out of this utter bliss. I unravelled one of my arms from around the figure and turned to grab my cell phone. As I opened my eyes, clicking the unlock button, I realised that it wasn't my phone buzzing. I put it down on the table once more, unsure of what the awful noise was. I propped myself up on my elbow, my other arm still sitting snuggly under her back. I gazed at her sleeping. Her hair was messy, un-brushed and natural. It was sprawled elegantly on the white pillows under her sweet head.

Memories of the night we had just left behind flooded back as she stirred in her sleep. Images of the young woman digging her nails into my hip, pleading me not to stop as she rode out waves of pure bliss ran through my mind. A smirk crossed my face. The night had been perfect, both loving and intimate but also containing a noticeable and pungent element of something erotic and lustful.

I sighed once more into the back of the young girl. The buzzing had not woken her and I was now sure it was indeed her phone. I kissed her neck once, testing her limits on what would wake her. I looked up to her, my eyes wide, searching in the dark for a reaction. When I didn't get one I willed myself to push further. I kissed her neck once more, this time, not just a simple peck. I lavished her neck in deep and slow kisses, moving my way down to her smooth shoulders. Although she had not woken her breathing had hitched.

I gently removed my arm from underneath the sleeping woman. A natural reaction of hers was to turn completely onto her back, her body twisted at an odd angle. Her arm moved up and her fingers brushed along my rib cage, causing goose bumps to arise from her chilled fingers. I didn't have the strength to walk away now. I had thought that maybe I could wake her with a kiss and she would turn the awful buzzing noise off herself but no, it was too late. Gently, I got myself out of bed and begun rustling around in the clothes that had been abandoned on the floor by the bed. I didn't find her phone. I cursed under my breath as I bumped into a table, the noise making Andrea turn her head and make some rather interesting mumbling sounds.

Then I saw it. Andrea had placed it by her side of the bed, obviously when she had rose in the night to go the bathroom, and had turned her alarm on. I kneeled down and grabbed the small machine. It was flashing, 5:03am. She'd set it early. I was glad of it. We were expected at 7am- the second day was never as busy as the first- and having a good two hours to prepare was something I appreciated. I slid the key to open the phone but it needed a password.

"Shit" I whispered. This kind of language was not something I used often unless of serious annoyance. I didn't want to guess her password and get it wrong, locking her out of a phone that I had bought for her strictly for work and cause a scene where I had to purchase a new one. Not that money was a problem, but right now, she needed this phone to not be broken by an old woman with no knowledge of four significant numbers in her life.

In the end, after a moment of thinking what to do, I flipped the phone and pulled the back off. I removed the battery and sighed relief when the horrendous buzzing stopped. I placed the cell phone, separate to the battery, down on the floor once more. I scurried around the bed, praying not to fall or run into something and wake her up. I had my own ideas on how to wake up the young woman.

I lay gently back onto the bed, propping myself up on one elbow. Once again, I began kissing down her neck. She leant into my lips, not yet waking, but seemingly eager to increase the touch. A small sigh escaped her lips as my lips grazed her collar bones. I shifted my body high, holding myself on my hand and no longer my elbow. My other hand let its fingers hook onto the blanket wrapped messily around her body. I tugged it down gently, the sheets seemingly rippling over her skin. I let it sit around her waist, not wanting the lack of heat to wake her. I lifted myself to hover over her body. My hands were either side of her chest. I lowered my kissed down to her breasts once more. The skin gently rippled as I cheekily blew onto it. When the skin seems slightly strained, senses overwhelming the poor girl, I latched my lips around the nipple. The skin was rough yet delicate all at once. I couldn't resist nibbling it slightly. I pulled it between my teeth, tugging gently before releasing it. Andrea groaned gently, her back arching gently but her eyes were not open.

Could this girl sleep through anything? I didn't believe it. I moved to her other breast, once again, latching my teeth onto the sweet flesh. I bit down slightly harder than I did originally. A sharp yelp was released into the room. Without releasing her from my mouth I looked up slightly. Her back suddenly arched, her arms reached out and her fingers clutched onto the pillow beneath her head. She curved her neck forward as her back relaxed once more against the bed.

"What are you doing, Miranda?" She spoke with a smile on her lips.

I released her nipple from my teeth before kissing it gently. "Good morning, darling." My tongue moved out gently, snaking its way around the pert skin. As I moved to settle myself in-between her thighs, she gently grazed her finger nails down my stomach. I growled slightly, coming out of the insecure shell I was trapped in the night before. I took her wrist in my hands and forced them into the bed.

"Hmm." She hummed as, once again, my lips pressed themselves to her skin. I kissed down her stomach gently. I let my teeth nip and bite every now often. I didn't know where this suddenly dominant and rough lover side of myself had come from. I had never used my teeth to ever arouse emotions within someone.

I let my fingers slip from around her wrist and tug the rest of the blankets from her waist. As the soft material crossed her knees, she gently kicked it away from both of us. Suddenly, she was exposed to a chill as the warm sheets no longer covered her perfect figure. Her entire body erupted into goose bumps, something that I found seriously attractive. My hands travelled up her thighs and along her rib cage as I kissed the sweet skin of her stomach. Once again, she started humming. Oh god, she was sexy. Every move she made just made me want to see her come undone.

"Oh, Miranda." She was biting her lip, fighting to not clutch onto my shoulders. My lips pressed themselves into her navel. I moved ever so slowly to her core. My lips and tongue were leaving hot trails on her skin, causing her to writhe and whimper under my touch. She wouldn't last long, but I would draw this out. We still had time.

I pushed her thighs apart gently, not enough for her to expose herself completely to me but enough to feel the heat radiating off her onto my chest. I cupped her with the palm of my hand. She let a shudder leave her lips but didn't move a muscle.

"Oh, please" she whispered into the empty room around us.

"Please?" I lowered my lips to the inside of her thigh, stealing a cheeky peck against the cream skin. All she did was groan and push herself into the bed, lifting her hips higher for me.

"Oh, god, Miranda." Was I teasing? I didn't care. Watching the features on her face crease and crinkle simply because I wasn't giving her the ultimate pleasure, all because I wasn't taking her right here and now, was very satisfying. Yes, I believe I was teasing.

I was prepared to watch her suffer a while more, but as I ran my hands up her rib cage once more and her fingers moved to circle my wrists and the most frustrated and desperate "just touch me" left her lips, I decided I had been cruel enough. I buried myself between her thighs, her legs either side of my shoulders. I wasn't sure what I was doing, I'd never done _this _before but I wouldn't let it scare me. I'd done fine last night; by the marks still left on my hip it was obvious. I would let instinct be my guide.

My finger rips grazed over her clit, ghosting over the sensitive skin. I was fascinated by, as I watched what my fingers were doing, how the rest of her body reacted almost immediately. I let my fingers tips circle her clit for a moment, unsure of how to move forward to the task at hand. I knew how a woman's body worked, this should be easy.

I brought away my fingers suddenly, pushing myself determinedly forward to connect my lips to her centre. The cry that filled the room was of complete shock and utter pleasure. I smirked against the warm, wet skin. The taste was overpowering. It was so different. The taste itself was both bitter and sweet at the same time. It was something I hadn't been expecting but was also everything more than I had expected. It was wonderful. It was different. It was so erotic. It was weird.

I pulled her clit in-between my lips, adding an intense pressure to it. When her back practically cracked from the angle it was arched, I lost control of myself. I didn't think that would be possible while taking someone for my own. Every previous time I'd lost complete control was while giving myself over to someone. This situation was a first. I grabbed her by the back of her thighs and tugged her closer to me. Being tugged down the bed obviously affected Andrea in a way I hadn't expected it to. She let one of her hands fly up and clutch onto the head board while the other went freely to my head, silently begging me to continue my ministrations.

I bowed my head once more, latching my lips to her clit once more. She cried out, and then hissed loudly through her teeth. Oh god. I ran my tongue around her, just tasting her and exploring this new sensation. I brought my right hand back around from underneath her thigh. My fingertips touched her slit. I didn't push in, I wasn't feeling nice enough. I circled her entrance, dipping my finger tip inside once. She was wet. O, Lord, she was wet. I don't think I'd ever been as wet as she felt against my fingers right at this moment. I snaked my tongue lower, being brave, and taking a vast amount of the warm liquid into my mouth. My eyes almost rolled back in my skull. She was intoxicating.

I didn't care. I pushed two fingers inside her. She was so warm and so tight and oh, God, what had taken me so long to want to do this to her? This was beyond arousing. I curled the two fingers up sharply, bringing a moan from the wonderful woman's lips. My fingers were moving quickly, in and out of her sweet core. She was panting, moaning, her cries of pleasure being consumed by the empty room around us. My lips and tongue devoured her. This was mine. This everything. This moment, this movement, this complete passion, it was all mine.

"Oh, Mirand—" She loosened her grip on the head board, he hand coming down and meeting the other one to tangle in my hair. She tugged lightly, telling me silently how bad she needed to lose control.

I let my lips leave her for just a second, long enough so whisper "Say my name again." She looked me in the eye, her vulnerability showing through. I forced the dominative part of my soul through the expression in my eyes. Here I was, between my assistant's thighs and commanding her to say my name once more. If that wasn't both manipulative and possessive I don't know what was. Her eyes flickered shut and her head rolled back on her shoulders. This would not do. I asked her to do something and I never asked twice. I cheekily pushed another finger inside of her and reattached my mouth to her clit. I sucked it into my mouth, the pressure must have been unbearable.

Her back shot up from the bed, her fingers now definitely pulling on the strands of my hair. "Oh, fuck." My fingers felt her begin to clench and tighten around them. She was close. Once again, I curled my fingers up towards her stomach, keeping the pace I had set the same. "Oh God." She was panting. Her thighs were trembling against my shoulders. She was tensing and she couldn't help it. "Miranda oh my god, oh, don't stop." She was vocal. I had never been with someone as vocal as this. It was thrilling. I nibbled gently on her clit, my fingers still pistoling in and out of her. She fell apart.

The sweet clenching around my fingers, even without the wonderful noises she was making, proved to me how hard she had fallen from the edge. Her cries of almost painful bliss just added to the smirk on my face as I slowed my hand and tongue on the most sensitive part of her body. "Oh god." She hissed, arching her back as she pressed herself back down onto the bed. I pulled my fingers out of her slowly, although fast enough for her to release another gravelly moan into the room. Her breathing was still laboured as I pressed my lips to her clit once more and kissed gently. I kissed my way back up her stomach. As I reached head breasts, I stopped and arched my back into her, lifting my eyes up to look at her. I placed one of my fingertips into my mouth and sucked off all that I found there. All Andrea could do was watch in wonder.

After a moment or two of just staring into each other's eyes, I leant down to kiss her body once more, but she sighed and took my face in her hands and pulled me up her body. She kissed me with such passion that I was sure something other than adoration was being placed into what she was giving me. I was sure she tasted herself on my lips, she smiled into the kiss as my tongue danced with hers.

Her arms un-ravelled themselves around my neck where they had been placed without me even noticing, and gripped my hips, pulling me closer.

"Andrea, we have work" I kissed under her ear.

"We got time." One of her hands edged in-between my thighs, brushing against my clit, and for once in my life my only thought was _being late isn't such a bad thing._

**8:23am**

"We're late. We're late. We are so late, Miranda." We turned the corner to the shoot after being almost an hour and a half late. Nigel and Emily would be going insane. "You know they texted me like twenty eight times but I didn't get them. Who can I blame there?" She eyed me, knowing I'd pulled the battery to her phone out.

"You weren't complaining at the time." I smirked at her as I handed a random model my handbag to put away for me.

"You have an answer for everything." She whispered as she was handed a clip board with the day's plans on. "Right, okay." She skimmed down the list quickly spilling out information on where and when I was needed and who I was needed by. "You've missed all of that," she scribbled out a small section of the paper, "so now Tony is with the blondes and the dark make up. He needs to talk filters, apparently. After that Margaret and Sandra are gonna dress the brunettes and the boys and they should be ready for the shoot then we're basically done."

"Basically?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"Yeah, after that all that is left it to get everything sorted and we can head back to New York tomorrow. The shoot will be done and then all we need is details on the clothes and make up and models and stuff." She lifted her eyes when she was met with a silence. _Stuff. _She knew my feelings for that word.

"Hey, where have you been?" Nigel grabbed Andrea's shoulder and spun her around. "We've needed you. Why was your phone not on?" The images of me stumbling around a dark room while tearing the battery to her cell phone out flashed into my mind, causing a slight smile on my face. Nigel caught sight of this and instead of interrogating Andrea, decided that looking at me with crooked eyebrows was a better idea. When I noticed that both Andrea and Nigel were now inspecting my features, one with a knowing look in her eye and the other one completely clueless, I spun on my heels and walked away. Right now, I had a shoot to run.

**Hello beautiful people. I HAVE NOT DIED. I promise :) I am now working two jobs … so yeah, I have been sleeping way more than I should be and completely forgot that just thinking about the later plot for this story wouldn't make it write itself. So yeah, just a short chapter to remind you all I love you because you all smell divine and I like it. Aaha. THANK YOU EVERYBODY. Reviews make you sexy. Not that you already aren't. **


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